


Sleeping On The Blacktop

by Nerdy_Badger_Mole



Series: Cherry Wine [1]
Category: Good Girls (TV), Good Girls (TV) RPF
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood, Blood and Injury, Daddy Kink, Dark!Rio, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Spanking, Not a Love Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Smut, Stalking, Tags Are Hard, Threats of Violence, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-01-31 10:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdy_Badger_Mole/pseuds/Nerdy_Badger_Mole
Summary: Things start to spiral out of control under a mysterious watchful gaze
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Rio (Good Girls) & Original Character(s), Rio (Good Girls)/Original Character(s), Rio (Good Girls)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Cherry Wine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909876
Comments: 93
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags. This won't be a happy story and it will probably be triggering for some people. Please, please, put your mental health first.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

She was scanning the shelves of Fine and Frugal for her favourite muesli and yoghurt cookies but the hair on the back of her neck rising.

Perhaps she was being paranoid but whatever primal instinct that lived in her was on high alert. Tentatively, she looked around her and found that she couldn’t see anyone looking at her, everyone seemingly milling around mindlessly.

Hm.

Maybe her anxiety was messing with her head. She shrugged and threw her cookies into her shopping cart and went about her shopping, her instincts still on high alert.

The problem was that no matter how much she tried to rationalize her paranoia, she couldn’t help but note that she was only on edge when she was at Fine and Frugal. Maybe it was Annie’s shit-stain boss, Boomer that was giving her the creeps but she knew that she scared Boomer enough for him to not even breathe in her direction.

Annie was also a familiar presence so she didn’t feel too unsafe per se but every so often she would show up for some things and she couldn’t deny that she felt eyes on her as she moved through the aisles.

She decided to quickly wrap up her shopping and she made her way to the check-out where Annie was stationed. Her eyes kept darting around and so freaked out was she that she almost missed what Annie was saying to her.

“Hey!” Annie said waving her hand in front of her face.

“What?” She asked dumbly.

“I said you looked spooked,” Annie said slowly, scanning each item. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’ve been feeling…weird. Like I’m being followed and watched.”

“You’ve still got your pepper spray, right?” Annie asked seriously and she nodded in response. “Keep your phone on and never be afraid to fight dirty.”

“I should be saying the same thing to you,” she muttered, glaring at Boomer that was taking Annie’s distraction as an excuse to ogle Annie’s ass. She raised an eyebrow at him when they locked gazes and he skittered off like the roach he was.

“I can handle Boomer,” Annie said breezily, leaning on the counter. “The devil you know.”

“True,” she sighed.

That was the problem. She had no idea if she was being jumpy for no reason or if she was actually in danger.

“Hey,” Annie said, brow furrowed in concern. “Do you need me to take you home?”

“Your shift isn’t over,” she protested.

“Whatever,” Annie scoffed.

“No, no, we both need to be functioning adults here,” she chuckled tiredly, taking out her phone. I’ll order an Uber and share my trip with you, Ruby, and, Beth.”

“Damn. I really wanted to ditch work,” Annie said in faux disappointment.

“Sorry, babe,” she laughed. “I’ll see you around.”

She waved at Annie over her shoulder as she went outside to catch her uber and she tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on her retreating back.

**

She took to using different grocery stores whenever she could but her Fine and Frugal was just so damn…Fine and Frugal. Sue her for being cheap but there was a reason why she and the girls always shopped there.

However, it felt like those ever-watchful disembodied eyes drew closer with each visit. And so each shopping venture grew shorter and shorter, her eyes all the while darting around wildly in hopes of catching the culprit.

Eventually, in a manner of speaking, she got used to the looming ethereal presence. She remained vigilant but she did not flinch at every sound and regard everyone around her with suspicion.

She wasn’t comfortable by any stretch but nothing had happened to her yet and in her books that was a win.

She was contemplating everything when she was browsing the cheese and mulling over her strange situation when a voice broke her out of her thoughts.

“Don’t worry about the calories. Buy the cheese. It’s worth it,” a voice whispered conspiratorially. 

She whipped around and was faced with arguably one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. Bright blue eyes were crinkled kindly against ochre skin with full pink lips tilting in a shy smile.

She laughed shyly and ran a hand through her braids in an effort to seem like she didn’t almost jump out of her skin.

“Trust me, nothing stands between me and cheese,” she laughed. “I guess I just zoned out.”

“Long day?” the man asked casually, raising a knowing eyebrow.

“Long life, to be honest,” she laughed.

Oh, man. I can relate to that. 9 to 5 got you down?” he asked.

“I’m a graphic designer so the work never really stops and the clients never act right so…” she trailed off tiredly.

“No shit!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I’m a photographer so I know exactly what you mean.”

They struck up a friendly conversation and she found a kindred spirit in the man she came to know as Ismael. They chatted about anything and everything until she remembered that she grabbed ice cream that was quickly on its way to melting and she reluctantly announced that she had to leave.

“Can I, Can I get your number?” he asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not being one to let anyone feel awkward for too long, she happily agreed and saved her number on his phone.

She went home feeling lighter than ever and so giddy that Annie simply told her to tell her about it over drinks sometime and waved her on her way practically skipping out of the store.

She got home and settled on her couch to find that she already had a message from Ismael and she was eager to see where it would all go. Whatever the case, she had found someone who she thought could be a really good friend and she was _happy. _Joyful even.

It was only when she was washing dishes that evening that a sense of dread made a pit in her stomach and the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up and she gasped aloud.

That gaze, that presence, those disembodied eyes, had followed her home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know. I typed this out in a frenzy just now. Please read, thank youuuu

Ismael became a good friend.

Their relationship was still very much in the early stages, each of them feeling the other out and trying to grow accustomed to the other’s rhythms. They weren’t best friends and they certainly weren’t…seeing each other but she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed his company and she looked forward to every text and every hangout they had.

She didn’t really have to think about how she wanted to come across around him because he took her as she was and in turn, she took him as he was. Their conversations were long, rambling, and probably confusing to any eavesdroppers, their talks having no clear beginning and no clear end. Anything they didn’t finish dissecting in person was carried over to texts and she found that 9 times out of 10 if her phone went off it, was with a text from Ismael. Her mood always improved with every chime of her phone.

He almost made her forget the ever-present watchful gaze that had almost become the norm.

Almost.

It was when she was absent-mindedly smiling at a meme Ismael sent her that she yelped when Annie kicked her shin sharply under the table in the diner where Ruby worked.

“Stop being such a cow,” she grumbled at Annie.

“Well, start paying attention,” Annie smirked. “Who are you texting anyway?”

“Nobody,” she said quickly. “Just some guy I met at the grocery store.”

“Ooh,” Ruby said leaning over her shoulder from the booth behind them. “Some guy or _some guy_?”

“As of now,” she said slowly, eyeing Beth, Annie, and Ruby pointedly. “He’s just a friend.”

“That’s how they all start out,” Beth said knowingly. “As just friends.”

“I’m keeping my options open,” she mumbled. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Well, you will be very happy to know that Dean maxed out his and Beth’s credit card at some lingerie store,” Annie said disdainfully.

“He did what?” she said darkly.

“Do you think he’s sleeping around?” Beth asked quietly.

“Don’t nobody want Dean,” Ruby said incredulously. “It’s a Christmas gift.”

“In October?” Beth asked dubiously.

“I mean, maybe he’s stopped being such a douche-nozzle and he’s trying to surprise just for the sake of it,” she tried.

“Maybe it’s your anniversary present,” Annie offered.

“He already gave me 100 coupons to Bed, Bath, and Beyond,” Beth said matter-of-factly.

“Ew, really?” Ruby asked.

“Son of a bitch,” Annie muttered looking over Ruby.

“No, I really do love it there,” Beth said mildly.

“No, that old guy is stealing your tip,” Annie said pointing at an old man that had shambled into the diner.

“He can’t even walk,” Ruby pointed out looking unimpressed.

“Go get it,” Annie insisted.

Ruby sighed but got up anyway and she snatched her tip from under the wandering and gnarled fingers of the then affronted looking old man, who picked his cane up and walked out of the diner.

Ruby turned back around to them and smiled, mouth agape in awe at the old man’s audacity and Annie’s keen eye. “Shady S-O-B.”

“The nerve,” she scoffed. “And he was looking at you like you were being unreasonable or somethin’.”

“At my old job, we got robbed all the time,” Annie informed them. “So I got the sixth sense now.”

“Are you serious?” Beth asked looking concerned.

“I mean, it’s no big deal. All the stores I work at eventually get hit,” Annie shrugged.

“You could get shot,” Beth argued.

“One can hope,” Annie said wistfully.

“Oof, mood,” she agreed and both Ruby and Beth looked at the pair of them like they’d just spoken gibberish.

“These guys,” Annie continued. “They don’t wanna hurt anybody. They just want the money so we let them have it, nobody’s trying to be a hero.”

“Do they get caught?” Ruby asked slowly.

“Yeah, the dumb ones do,” Annie said like it was obvious. “They park in the front by the security cameras. You gotta put your getaway car in the back by the loading dock. And you never dick around with the registers, the real money is back in the vault.”

“Huh,” she said dumbly, staring at Annie.

“You’ve really worked this out,” Beth deadpanned.

“Just keeping my options open,” Annie smirked at Beth and winked at her.

“How much is in the vault?” Ruby asked seriously.

“Thirty grand, give or take,” Annie replied.

“Damn,” Ruby exclaimed softly. “I could use that money.”

“Oh, my god, me too,” Annie agreed earnestly.

It was her’s and Beth’s turn to gawk at Annie and Ruby incredulously, their plan unfolding despite all common sense and social convention that dictated that one does not simply rob a grocery store.

The bizarre moment was broken when Ruby smirked wickedly at Beth and Annie giggled and pointed at her other friend.

“You should see your faces,” Annie wheezed.

“Beth, your face is whiter than usual,” Ruby observed, still smirking.

They laughed about the ridiculous plan for a while longer before a series of consecutive chimes led to interrogation about Ismael.

It was meaningless talk about boys and she felt light again, free.

If not for that gaze.

Later, she was in Fine and frugal and she chuckled and scoffed to herself when she imagined three moms storming in and robbing the place. Ruby, Beth, and Annie? It was a novel idea but ultimately she knew that it was silly.

She was mulling over their convoluted plan while reading the ingredients on a bottle of juice, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she tried to ignore the pit in her stomach.

Ignoring the pit in her stomach and trying to focus on the small print of the label, her eyes seeming to slide off the words despite her best efforts in favour of scanning her peripheral.

Because there was that gaze, that glaring, penetrating, and constant gaze. It usually felt like it was everywhere and nowhere, looking at her and inside her. Omnipresent.

Her eyes remained fixed on the end of the aisle on her left, her nails digging into the carton of juice and she found herself frozen, her gaze growing unfocused and her eyes stinging as she willed whatever presence was following her to manifest and come round the corner.

She could feel it.

She could feel it coming, whatever ‘it’ was. The aisle seemed to stretch impossibly longer and in her panic and anticipation, she found herself rooted to the spot as she awaited the mysterious shadow which she had adopted or rather that adopted her.

_Come on. _

Nothing.

_Come on! _

Still nothing. No footsteps, no shuffling, not even a breath.

_Show yourself! _

Still, nothing but she was still rooted to the spot, almost in a trance as she stared at an indeterminable point at the end of the aisle and all she could focus on was the blood rushing in her ears and her own shortened breaths. She absently noted the sound of her phone going off.

And that approaching and consuming gaze. It was growing closer and closer and all she could do is stay in her spot, frozen as it quickly approached.

“Hey,” a voice rumbled.

She jumped and whipped around from the spot her eyes were stuck on with a gasp.

“Woah, I’m sorry,” the man drawled. “Did I scare you?”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “I just zoned out I guess.”

His lips quirked in amusement and she fully took him in. She was faced with a tall, tan man, clad fully in black with a buzz cut and a neck tattoo, His large brown eyes were heavy-lidded as he appraised her and she couldn’t deny that he was attractive while at the same time rough around the edges. There was something all-together frightening and attractive about him. He was like a candle that you couldn’t help but want to touch, vibrant and dangerous.

“I saw you lookin’ kinda lost so I just wanted to check on you,” he explained.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” she said shyly. “I’m fine, just daydreaming I guess.”

“I wanted to,” he said lowly and she felt a thrill race up her spine.

“Oh,” she said dumbly and he smirked at her.

His gaze was firm and she knew without a doubt that she had every ounce of his attention. His gaze was heated, and hungry, seeming to search her soul without having her feel like she was being mentally undressed.

She noted that under his confident and unwavering stare, she felt almost safe.

Safe because that presence was gone.

“Listen, I shop here a lot,” he started. “I see you around and I wanna get your number.”

“What?” she asked dumbly. “I don’t even know your name.”

He was standing close suddenly and he held a hand out to her and she grasped it without even thinking. She savoured the feeling of her smaller hand in his large, calloused hands, his thumb rubbing across the back of her palm.

“Name’s Christopher, babygirl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed that! I'm on holiday and I have a lot of free time now so I'm gonna try and update as soon as I can! Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rio's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stalking trigger warning just in case. Please enjoy!

He remembered when he first saw her.

He had just finished counting out some good money and loaded it into a duffel before he stepped out, intending to leave as conspicuously as he came but his gaze was caught.

His gaze landed on a brightly coloured sweater, yellow, blue, and white stripes, the colours warm against her chestnut skin. It was several sizes too big for whoever was wearing it, sleeves bunched cutely over the stranger’s hands and hanging almost to their knees, over tight black leggings and shapely thighs. His eyes then travelled up her body, devouring every inch along the way before he landed on her face, her braids falling out of a messy topknot and falling in the way of large brown eyes, a button nose and full lips. She looked sleepy.

He couldn’t explain it. If you asked him what made him stop and stare at this person he wouldn’t be able to tell you. Perhaps it was the fuzzy socks he could see peeking from mint green crocs. Maybe it was the fact that she was clutching a box of his favourite cocoa puffs. Maybe it was how her nose scrunched ever so adorably when she yawned.

She seemed so…young. So pure, untainted, and…._ordinary. _

_He needed to have her._

He didn’t claim to be a good man. He didn’t even claim to be a decent one. He had done so many foul things that he had long stopped keeping count and moral dilemmas were very far from his mind. Of all the things that he had done and continued to do, he saw it as a fact of life that he enjoyed them. When he saw a man’s eyes widen in fear, when he felt the crush of bone under his fists, when the smell of blood was thick and heady in the air, it was pure _ecstasy. _

So when his gaze fell upon this paragon of virtue…it was only natural that he wanted to own it, claim it for his own. He wanted to debase her and bend her to his will. He wanted to hear her gasp for breath as he grasped her throat in his hands, he wanted to see her cry after he had spanked until there was no doubt whom she belonged to, he wanted to consume her and everything she was.

Could you blame him?

How could anyone see someone so cherubic in visage but so voluptuous in figure and not desire them wholly? He watched her shift on her feet as she perused the candy section and he drank in the curves of her thighs. He wished he could peek under that ridiculous sweater.

But as he observed the woman, _the girl, _he knew that in as much as he desired he would have no chance of getting her. He knew he was charming but the things that he wanted to do to her… she would run for the hills.

He would have to tie her down surely.

Not that he minded, but she looked like the sort to have people miss her.

Fuck.

Just as he came to this mental dead-end, she whipped straight to look in his direction and he continued to walk, his hoodie obstructing his face. He supposed that she felt his gaze and sought to find the perpetrator.

So she was sharp too. Interesting.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He could not have her and it would be too much work to try and take and keep her conspicuously. It was best to forget her.

Yup, that’s exactly what he would do.

He threw himself into his usual unsavoury dealings and a string of willing and ready women but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every woman he took to bed simply frustrated him, each punch he threw served to only ignite his fury further, and every one of his ‘employees’ seemed on a mission to piss him off as much and as frequently as possible.

His only solace came with his weekend visits with his son. The moments they had at the park when he would push Marcus on the swing or throw him over his shoulder if only to hear his little boy squeal in delight…well, those moments made him feel much less monstrous than he knew he very well was.

It was on one such occasion, an imposing figure by the monkey bars, that he saw her again. This time walking to meet three materteral figures sat in shade on a bench like three fates. They seemed to be keeping an eye on their children but she was alone in her arrival. Too young for children? Single?

He shook his head as he helped Marcus down from the monkey bars.

This time she wasn’t draped in an oversized sweater but was wearing a simple shirt and cardigan with jeans. He remembered longing to see under her sweater but in such form-fitting clothes, she had awoken something feral that wanted to take her then and there.

She whipped around once again, searching for his prying eyes in the crowd.

So he didn’t take her.

Because he needed to forget her. He was always up for trouble but he didn’t want that kind of smoke from such a tantalizing fire.

He managed to for a while, the itch that she put under his skin fading for a while, his mind clear of what he dismissed as a fanciful distraction. He once again embraced the blood, the guns, and the violence with renewed vigour.

He got on. As he always did. As he always had.

But then he saw her again at the supermarket. Smiling shyly at that absolute _shitstain _as he made moves on _his-_

Well, she wasn’t his but seeing her with that spineless _pendejo, _seeing them exchange numbers, and giggle like lovesick kids.

It made him see red and he wanted to swoop in and shake her, and snarl, and shout that, that _boy _had no hope of pleasing her, of dominating her the way he knew she _needed. _As if that toothless pup could even know how to devour a girl like that.

Before he even knew what he was doing, she had left and on legs with minds of their own, he followed. He stepped into his sleek black car and he followed her to what appeared to be a diner, where she sat down with the same three women from the park. She laughed and talked with them but she seemed to be smiling at something on her phone from time to time.

The boy.

That should be for him that smile. She should want nor need for anything past him but there she was giving that bitch boy attention.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

Soon, she left and he followed her at a sedate pace as she drove and drummed her steering wheel to whatever song was blaring from her speakers.

He didn’t know why he was following her. All he knew is that he didn’t want to take his eyes off of her in case… in case…

He didn’t know.

Perhaps, it was his way of inserting himself into her life. He knew that she knew that something, someone, was watching her but he successfully eluded her doe-eyed gaze. Even here from his car, he could see her look out her kitchen window, brow furrowed. It thrilled him, really. To know that he was affecting her even so remotely. She was meant to be his and his alone. She was already attuned to him and was probably longing for him as he longed for her. She just didn’t know it yet.

Yes. He knew what he needed to do.

He needed her. He _wanted _her. She was his. It was time that he made her his.

And so there he was finally. Her hand so small and dainty in his, those doe eyes wide and innocent, her well-endowed chest rising in what was almost a pant. She looked delicious.

And as she breathed out her name to him, it was like a promise, a pact.

A deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed that! Once again, I wasn't sure about this story. My faith in my abilities as a writer and my passion for this fandom did waver but I'm back babeyyy!  
Also, I've been binge-watching The Crown so if my 'voice' sounds different, that's why.   
Your comments and kudos are my lifeblood. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erm bit of a filler chapter and smut.

Christopher was…intense. To say the least.

He immediately asked her on a date and she found herself unable to say no. Well, she would have said no had he actually asked. Announced would be a better word as he simply told her to send him her address and that he would come by at 8.

He took her to a restaurant so expensive that driving past it made her break out in hives but he insisted.

“I can afford it, baby girl,” he had smirked.

“That’s great for you but I don’t _need _all this,” she mumbled uncomfortably in her seat, feeling severely under-dressed. “I don’t want it either. I’d be happy with In N’ Out.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be happy givin’ you that,” he said lowly leaning closer to her and holding her hand firmly. “You deserve the best.”

If she could flush red then she’s sure she would have been visible from space.

He was like a knight. Some kind of dark, mysterious, knight, covered in tattoos, his raiment black. He was charming, polite, with a smile sharp enough to cut plywood. Even the way he spoke was dissonant. His actual words were crass and full of slang but he was blindingly intelligent, quick-witted and funny. Everything about him seemed…solid. No, not solid, dense. She could almost feel him every time he walked into a room and when he turned his burning gaze on her she felt pinned.

She should’ve been scared of him. She really should’ve but some kind of instinct in her compelled her to ignore her common sense and she ended up feeling almost safe.

Any time some other guy who would have made her feel unsafe had she been on her own, cowered and shrivelled under Christopher’s cruel gaze. He was _terrifying. _

But he never turned that gaze on her. It was the dissonance of his dangerous nature and contrasted with the gentle way that he treated her that made her stay with him.

He was…sweet.

He would even kiss her hand and her heart would thunder in her chest but he never pushed her to do anything and he would always ask before even hugging her. Even then his hands never wandered, instead his arms would wrap tight around her and kissing the top of her head.

It was nice to have someone’s complete attention. She would talk and he would listen. Even things that she didn’t think he would care about he prompted her to talk about. She felt so stripped down and vulnerable around him that it was like something had uncorked in her and she was spilling all of her fears, her secrets, her insecurities. All of it. It was his and it was safe with him.

Before she knew it, she couldn’t remember the last time she answered Ismael’s texts.

She couldn’t remember the last time she answered anybody’s texts outside of work.

It was hard not to get caught up in Christopher.

After several more dates in far less extravagant and for more intimate places, it was hard not to start to…like him. Really like him.

She had enjoyed Ismael’s company but she was attracted to Christopher on several levels, some of which she didn’t even understand. She felt like they were in each other’s orbit, two stars burning as one.

She didn’t really have a type but when she thought about the type of guy that she thought she would end up with, it definitely wasn’t Christopher.

When she thought about the kind of girl that she thought that Christopher would like, that’s when the doubt started to set in.

It didn’t make sense for Christopher to spend so much time and money on her if he just wanted sex from her. He hadn’t even kissed her and it had been over a month.

Maybe they weren’t even dating. Maybe he was just that affectionate and over-protective with all his female friends.

God, she didn’t want to be that person, that ‘so what are we?’ person.

She needed answers though.

They were sitting in a small café, chatting over coffee for him and hot chocolate for her, her giggling at something he said when she spied his thumb brushing over her knuckles. His face was close enough to her that she needed only to lean forward minutely for them to kiss.

Fuck.

“Christopher,” she started shyly flicking her nails and avoiding his piercing gaze. “Can I ask you something? I need you to be honest.”

“Anything, baby girl,” he responded immediately gaze unwavering.

“What, what are we? What am, what am I to you?” she stuttered still flicking her nails.

He was silent for a moment and she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Stupid, so stupid. Why did she ask that? He was probably just being friendly this whole time. She was-

He thoughts were interrupted when he slipped her hand into his and she looked up at him surprised.

“That’s easy,” he smiled lopsidedly. “You’re mine.”

“You mean-“

“I mean you’re my girl,” he said firmly. “You want that?”

“I-“she started dumbly. “Yeah. Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asked teasingly, an edge to his voice.

“Yes, I want that. To be your girl, she breathed quietly.

“Then that’s that,” he smiled self-assuredly.

“Wait,” she said snapping out of her daze. “Why though?”

“Why what?” he asked looking amused.

“I mean, you could have anyone you want-“

“And I want you,” he said simply.

“But why?” she pressed.

“You’re cute,” he shrugged with a smile. “And nerdy, and awkward, and there’s something about you…”

“What? I’m not like the other girls?” she huffed in amusement.

“It’s that right there,” he chuckled. “You’re you.”

She sighed not quite satisfied with the answer but she felt like she wouldn’t be satisfied with any answer he gave so she let the subject drop.

They spent the rest of the day together, they saw a movie, ate dinner, and he bought her a large stuffed lion whose name a sign proclaimed as Ryan, that she had been eyeing in a store window despite her protests and he kissed the tip of her nose when she scrunched it up in annoyance.

She was still clutching said stuffed animal when he dropped her off and he walked her to her door. He opened his mouth to say something but he paused, looking down at her thoughtfully. He looked away and shifted on his feet in an uncharacteristic show of nervousness from one usually so solid, so unmoved by the happenings around him.

“Can I, um, can I kiss you?” he finally asked.

It was strange. He didn’t make a habit of asking for this. He was a commanding presence, he would simply make statements and wait for everyone to follow through. She never objected of course because he never told her to do anything that she didn’t want to do. This time though, he asked. And far be it from her to ever refuse him if he deigned to _ask. _

“Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”

His breath hitched and his eyes widened before he descended upon her, sweeping her into a scorching kiss. His arms wrapping tight and around her waist and pulling her close, Ryan falling to her doorstep as she was pulled close to his chest. His lips were insistent against hers, no hope of a fight for dominance against the almost bruising press of his lips. He began to nip at her lips, and she mewled into his mouth, her head suddenly light and an unfamiliar pulse between her legs.

It was when one his hands started to wander that he wrenched himself away as though burnt and she looked up at him in confusion through heavy-lidded eyes.

“We should pump the brakes, baby girl,” he chuckled lowly, face still close.

“Why?” she practically whined.

“I don’t wanna scare you off,” he said almost to himself.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothin’,” he said easily. “I just don’t wanna rush things. I ain’t just tryna hit and quit.”

The confession made her smile and she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. “Thank you. For all this. I had a really nice time.”

“Anything for my girl,” he whispered. “Mine.”

She felt an inexplicable pit in her stomach when he said. That voice, that common sense in her that implored to listen harder, look closer. She put it down to butterflies, the anticipation and hopefulness of new love.

Surely, it was nothing.

Nothing but love.

**

After that, not even a day would go by without seeing him.

After every meeting, she would immediately get a call from him, inquiring about her whereabouts before declaring that he was on his way to pick her up. After that, he would take her to a restaurant of her choice where he would order for her.

She wasn’t comfortable with it at first but he calmly explained that he simply wanted to take care of her because after all, she didn’t have the best eating habits i.e. not eating at all for hours at a time. So she let him fuss because she supposed he was right.

He would text her constantly when she wasn’t with him, only stopping once he was with her at her house where they would cuddle and talk.

It was on one such occasion that she was in his lap facing him, her new favourite seat when she was swept into yet another bruising kiss, his hands firm on the back of her neck and on her thigh. Even in her position, he still managed to command the kiss. In all honesty, it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing; He commanded everything around her. He commanded her.

She didn’t mind it. Not really.

So she decided to give herself to him. Fully.

“Please,” she breathed against his lips.

“Please, what?”

She answered with a roll of her hips against his swelling erection. “Take me to bed. Please.”

His eyes darkened and a smirk played across his features. Before she could even blink he was lifting her up, keeping her legs around his waist and she gasped. She wasn’t a small woman and the act only served to further arouse her.

He carried her to her bedroom and laid her on the bed, climbing over her and kissing her deeply, his hand sliding up her thigh and under her short sundress, teasing at her panties.

“I- I’ve never done this before,” she said quietly pulling away from him.

He looked surprised at this. “Ever?”

She shook her head shyly. “No one’s ever wanted me…like that. _I’ve_ never wanted anyone like that.”

“I’m gonna take good care of you, baby,” he whispered fervently. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

He kissed her heatedly once more and she moaned softly into his mouth. He trailed insistent and biting kissing to her face, trailing down her jaw, before licking and nipping down her neck, making her back arch.

His focused his attentions on that spot and pulled her dress down to grasp one of her breasts, his fingers pulling and twisting her nipple making her moan highly and making her dampen her panties undoubtedly.

“You like that?” he asked darkly. “You getting wet for me, baby?”

She mewled in assent, her eyes screwed shut and her breath coming out in short pants.

He moved lower and she felt his breath fanning over her other nipple before he took it into his mouth, never ceasing his fingers’ attention on her other breast. His tongue flicked over her nipple and her back arched once again, her moans loud and desperate.

“You think you can come like this, baby girl?” he asked. “You gonna cream in those cute little panties?”

She whined and shook her head pulling desperately at his shirt. “More, more, more, please, please, more.”

He hushed her and moved lower down her body and she wondered what he was doing. He stopped between her legs and his eyes darkened at the no doubt wet patch of her underwear sticking to her body. He hooked his fingers on the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down her legs leaving her bare and exposed to him, the cold air of the room making her feel sensitive.

His face was mere inches away from her mound, his breath fanning across her pussy and making her shiver, the anticipation holding her taut as a bowstring. She jerked slightly when she felt his thumb press against her clit making her gasp. He gave no respite, rubbing insistently on her sensitive bud making her moan and writhe but he put a hand on her lower abdomen to keep her in place. He rubbed roughly at her clit, occasionally running his thumb up and down her sopping sex making her gasp and mewl as she quickly approached her climax.

She felt like a leaky faucet, wanton and desperate as her body prepared itself for him. He gathered some of her slick on one of his fingers and he slowly inserted it into her.

There was some resistance but she welcomed the intrusion feeling full but not full enough. She moaned gutturally and she found herself begging for more.

“You want more? My little princess ain’t satisfied huh?” he asked in mock curiosity.

She bucked when she felt his tongue run up her sex. He tongued her clit and she sobbed at the overwhelming feeling. He sucked at her clit and thrust his finger in and out of her sopping channel, pressing insistently at a spot inside her that made her vision white out. He tongued at her clit and rubbed at the spot inside her in tandem insistently, relentless in his assault. She gasped and moaned and pulled at her own hair helpless against his attentions and she felt herself growing closer, and closer, and closer before her climax hit her like a freight train. She trembled helplessly, back arching, and eyes rolling back as her walls fluttered and she gushed onto his tongue which did not cease in its attentions on her clit.

He continued licking at her sensitive sex and nipping at her inner thigh as she came down from her high, still mewling and chest heaving. Eventually, she calmed down and she stared at her ceiling in a stupor, stunned.

“You wanna continue or did I wear you out?” he asked lowly moving up to look her in the eye.

Even after cumming so spectacularly, the ache between her legs did no lesson and she knew that she wanted to feel him before the night was done.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, looking him in the eye.

“Fuck me, what?” he asked with a smirk.

She took the opportunity to do something that she had always wanted to do but wasn’t sure she ever would do.

“Fuck me, daddy,” she said demurely.

He froze and his eyes widened, his pupils dilating faster than anything she’d ever seen and she feared that she had freaked him out and she opened her mouth to backtrack but he silenced with another kiss, his hand squeezing her thigh almost painfully.

“You want daddy’s dick?” he asked darkly. “You wanna be a good little girl for me?”

“Yes, daddy,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered and she was quick to comply.

She felt odd being so exposed to him like this but being so compliant, so submissive to him… it was as though she was finally where she was meant to be.

She felt his hand rub over her ass and she sighed, pushing back into his touch. She felt him kneel behind her and she felt the blunt head of his cock line up with her opening and she moaned when he stroked up and down her sex with the tip. He then pushed in slowly and she relished the burn and stretch of his sizeable member. He pushed in insistently until he bottomed out and she felt stuffed full and split open all at once and she mewled into her pillow as she adjusted to the feeling.

Before she could though, he set a punishing pace, thrusting in and out of her heat brutally and she was sure that she would feel it the next morning. His hands held onto her hips tightly almost bruising as he pounded roughly into her.

“Daddy,” she moaned. “Daddy.”

“Mine,” he growled. “My good little girl.”

He bent over her, chest covering her back and wrapped hand round her throat wrenching her back and making her back arch. The change in position had him hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars.

The sound of skin hitting skin was interspersed with her moans and his dark muttering into her ear. He kept his litany of ‘mine’s and praise, a possessive and dark snarl as he continued his impassioned ministrations.

At that moment, pinned down and being thoroughly debauched, she realized absently between tears and pants, that that was the first time he wasn’t gentle with her.

What she failed to realise what that would not be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, not all of Rio's behaviour is romantic. I don't condone his actions and some of them are inspired by the abusers that have come and gone in my life. Be safe guys. No one that really loves you will try and control you or own you. 
> 
> Anyway, I do hope that you enjoyed that! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things escalate kinda

She stared at her ceiling, sunlight streaking across it.

Her thoughts were like static, buzzing incoherently in her head, each flying past the other faster than she could process them.

It was hard to focus when the object of her confusion had an arm thrown possessively over her, his face tucked into the side of her neck, his steady breathing tickling her. It was hard to focus when every part of her body was aching _because _of him.

She had heard that after your first time, it hurts. Significantly. But that it’s like a pleasant ache and you get over it.

She didn’t feel like she was going to get over this anytime soon.

She carefully extracted herself from his grasp, careful not to wake him and she tiptoed to her bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. She turned to face herself in the mirror and survey the damage.

Her face was still stained with dried tears and her lips were swollen. She had bruises on her neck and along her collarbone that acted as a trail to the bite marks he had left on her shoulder. Thankfully he hadn’t drawn blood but they were sore and sensitive to the touch. The rest of her body was littered with as many bruises; across her breasts, her hips, and her thighs. All of them deep, painful, and dark against her mahogany skin.

Her attention was drawn to the wetness between her legs and she tentatively placed her hand on sore and sensitive flesh only to have it come away covered in a mixture of blood and cum.The breath was knocked out of her at the sight. The bruises were already a lot to take in but to see evidence that he had _hurt _her and simultaneously see evidence of his pleasure while he hurt her so intimately…it was crushing.

“Baby?” he called out groggily from the bedroom. “Baby?”

She found herself unable to call back out to him. She wished that it was all a bad dream. She wished that she was just seeing things.

“Babe?” he said knocking on the door. “You in there? You okay?”

She felt like she didn’t recognize the person on the other side of the door.

Before she could respond, he had already opened the door and they both froze as they regarded each other; him with confusion, her with fear.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“You need to ask?” she asked, voice cracking. “_Look at me, Christopher.”_

His eyes roamed over her appreciatively and she realized she was still naked but his gaze zeroed in on the bruises, bite marks, and the blood on her hand and his jaw clenched as he averted his gaze.

“Well?” she asked plaintively. “Is this it? Is this what you like?”

“I, uh,” he started. “I just got carried away.”

“Carried away?” she parroted dubiously.

“Yeah,” he said emphatically. “What was I supposed to do? Huh? You callin’ me daddy like that? What was I supposed to-”

“So this is my fault?” she asked in hurt and confusion.

“No!” he shouted and she flinched backwards, hitting the sink.

They were both silent for a moment, him rubbing the back of his neck and sighing as he closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes and he looked wounded but she didn’t really know what to think at that moment. All that she knew is that she was a little afraid of him.

“Can you please stop lookin’ at me like that?” he asked quietly.

“Like what?” she asked quietly.

“Like you’re fuckin’ afraid of me!” he shouted again, hitting the door with a clenched fist and she yelped as she started to tear up.

His shoulders suddenly sagged and his eyes also started to well with tears as he gave a shuddering inhale. He moved forward to kneel at her feet slowly wrapping his arms around her waist as he hugged her close, his tears wetting her abdomen and freezing her in shock.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he sobbed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Christ-“

“I just, I just really like you,” he sobbed looking up at her. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry I yelled. Really. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s-“she started to say that it was fine but in truth, it wasn’t fine.

“Don’t leave me,” he begged softly. “Don’t break up with me, please.”

“Christopher,” she tried but he interrupted her.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered tearfully. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. It might kill me.”

Her blood froze at that.

“I can’t live without you, baby,” he whispered hugging her closer. “I won’t. Please don’t leave me.”

She rested a hand on his head, running her hands through his shorn hair, tears streaming silently down her face. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

“I’mma be so good to you, baby,” he promised emphatically. “_So _good.”

They just held each other in silence in the bathroom and she ignored that pit in her stomach again.

**

After their…talk, Christopher was hell-bent on making it up to her.

He had run her a bath and went about washing her himself and massaging her sore muscles even though she protested and insisted that she could do it herself.

After he finished giving her a bath, he bundled her in the fluffiest towel he could find and literally carried her back into the bedroom, peppering her face with kisses and making her squeal and giggle in spite of herself and the emotional morning they had.

He tried to dress her as well but she had to draw the line somewhere, shooing him away and insisting that he go shower himself and so he begrudgingly left to shower and let her get dressed and she smiled despite the exhaustion she was feeling.

She decided that she wasn’t leaving the house that day and pulled out an oversized sweater and leggings from her closet as she contemplated the last couple of hours. She felt like she’d been run over by a truck emotionally. She went from being angry to being afraid, to being worried, to being happy in the time that it usually took her to shower and have breakfast.

She thought about what he said, about not being able to live without her and her stomach twisted at the memory. Was he saying that he would…hurt himself if she broke up with him? Surely not. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

In any case, he apologized and he seemed to really mean it, judging by the way he was fussing over her. It was water under the bridge, right?

Right?

She was broken out of her tumultuous thoughts when he came out of the shower, towel slung around his waist. He took one look at her and he smirked, stepping towards her to hug her and spin her around making her yelp.

“Christopher!” she giggled.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said putting her down but still holding her.

She looked away bashfully and hit his chest softly. “Hush.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted.

“I’m hungry,” she said instead of answering.

He huffed in amusement and got dressed before they both went to the kitchen for breakfast whereupon he decided that he would feed her.

“I can feed myself,” she grumbled, fighting a smile.

“Lemme take care of you,” he goaded.

“You really don’t need to,” she argued.

“I _want _to,” he smiled and so she indulged him, but she resolved to complain the entire time much to his amusement.

And so the rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. He doted on her ceaselessly and she sat there and took it because she assumed it was what he needed to feel like he was really trying and she appreciated it.

Last night was in the past, this morning was in the past.

Water under the bridge.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed that! Kinda heavy but this whole fic is gonna be heavy who am I kidding?   
I feel like this goes without saying but no one that really loves you is gonna threaten to hurt themselves to keep you in their life. That's fucked up and unfair.   
Stay safe, babes. Love you <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.

One would think that an incident like that would drive them apart but thanks to Christopher that didn’t happen.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

He was almost always with her unless she was working or busy with something else. In those cases, he was always waiting afterwards to spirit her off somewhere or just take her home where they would cuddle and watch TV.

It was one rare occasion where she wasn’t with him and had decided to meet for lunch with Ismael since she went from always having time for him to never really having time for anyone aside from Christopher. No, Christopher carved time out for himself.

The restaurant was mostly empty, the only noise coming from the kitchen and the news that was playing softly on the TV. It was nice to slow down and check-in with a friend and really just decompress after the crazy month she’d had.

“So,” Ismael started as they sat down at a table. “Which dimension did you disappear to?”

“The 6th dimension,” she laughed. “But I’m here right now…”

Ismael laughed and sang the rest of the song that they affectionately called their song before she cleared her throat.

“In all seriousness,” she started nervously. “I, uh, I met someone.”

“Oh,” Ismael said shocked.

“Yeah, it’s, um, it’s pretty recent and whatever but I really like him,” she mumbled.

“Is he the one that gave you those bruises,” he asked in concern.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly.

“Isn’t it?” he challenged.

She averted her eyes, unable to refute his words or defend Christopher because he did do that to her but he was sorry.

“He apologized,” she mumbled. “He just got carried away.”

“Look, I’m not gonna parent you or whatever but just be careful, okay? I care about you and I just think you always have to be wary of the people that hurt you. Even if they say that it was an accident,” he said seriously.

“He’s not like that,” she said weakly.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

She didn’t have an answer to that. Not an honest one anyway.

“Just be careful. If you need to get away from him or anybody for that matter, you have my number,” he said gently.

“Thank you,” she said softly, holding his hand.

“Anytime,” he said. He was smiling but his eyes were sad. Before she could ask he had already changed the subject.

“So what’s this guy’s name?” he asked in almost forced casualness.

“Uh, Christopher.”

“Okay, Christopher who?” he prompted and she drew a blank.

“I, uh, I don’t actually know,” she said looking off and frowning. Had he even told her that?

“Okay,” Ismael drawled uncertainly. “Where is he from?”

“I-“

“What does he do? Profession wise?” Ismael pressed.

She couldn’t answer any of his questions and she wondered how she got to a point this far in the future not knowing anything about this man past his age. It didn’t make a lick of sense.

“He’s always so fixated on me, and asking questions about me…” she trailed off. “He knows everything about me but I don’t know _anything _about him.”

She looked at Ismael and she saw the concern etched into his face at the prospect of her having gotten together with a complete stranger and she wanted to facepalm.

“I’m not really selling you on this guy, huh?” she asked teasingly to lighten the mood. “I spend a lot of time with him and I swear he’s great.”

“Is he always with you?” Ismael asked.

“Um, yeah,” she shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Always?” he asked sceptically.

“He’s attentive,” she said nonchalantly.

“Attentive or controlling?” Ismael asked not looking at her and picking at a loose thread on the table cloth.

She frowned at what he was implying. Christopher wasn’t like that. Right?

Just then her phone screen lit up with a text from Christopher reading: _Have you had lunch? What did you eat?_

Ismael saw it and he cocked an eyebrow at her in shock and disapproval and she opened her mouth to defend her boyfriend before her phone went off again.

_Christopher: I hope you didn’t have any caffeine. That stuff doesn’t agree with you. _

_Christopher: That means NO Coke _

_Christopher: Are you eating right now? Where? Send me a pin-drop. What are you eating?_

_Christopher: Hello????_

She could tell that he was getting impatient and if there was one thing she learnt in her time with him is that he had a fiery temper and an almost microscopic fuse, ready to blow at anything. He tried to reign it in with her but she tried not to upset him in any case so she grabbed her phone and quickly sent off a text saying that she was at lunch with a friend and that she’s eating healthy and would text him in a couple of hours. She laid her phone face down and ignored the chimes that came after that.

“He’s not like that, huh?” Ismael said sceptically. “I don’t know, man. I have a bad feeling about this. In my gut.”

“You’re probably just hungry,” she teased weakly. “Let’s order.”

They ordered and due to the emptiness of the restaurant, their food came pretty quickly but she could feel the snail-like and sluggish passage of time while they waited for their food. She wanted the conversation to drop, and Ismael seemed to be mulling over what to say in the meantime. Meanwhile, the chiming of her phone was an insistent third guest at the table. They both reluctantly dug into their food.

“While I would like to tell you to break up with this dude, I realise that it’s not that simple,” Ismael started diplomatically. “However, you need to set boundaries. He can’t police what you do or don’t eat. Only you can do that. In the same way, what does it matter where you are? Someone can’t love you and control you.”

“He’s not controlling me, “she protested.

“To me, it looks like he’s trying to,” Ismael retorted.

“Well, things aren’t always what they seem,” she argued.

“For your sake, I hope not,” he said looking pained.

Before she could answer she heard the volume turn up on a news report and her ears pricked up at the mention of ‘Fine and Frugal’

_This just in. It appears that local supermarket, Fine and Frugal, was the site of an armed robbery. The three perpetrators, identified as three women in ski-masks, stormed into the store and held its inhabitants at gunpoint, coercing the manager to empty the grocery store’s vault. As of now, there are no reported casualties and the perpetrators are still at large. More at 6 pm._

“Holy crap,” she breathed. “I hope the girls are okay. We all shop there usually.”

“Haven’t you been texting them?” Ismael asked.

She guiltily looked at her plate of food and she opened her mouth to fumble for some excuse but nothing came out.

“Boundaries,” Ismael said softly. “That’s all I’m saying.”

She smiled tiredly at him and nodded after a moment, nudging his foot slightly under the table and he smiled fondly at her as well.

“Let’s eat,” he said. “Fucking finally. I’m starving.”

She giggled and she felt lighter than she had in a while and for the umpteenth time, she tried to ignore the dread that took root in her.

Boundaries.

That was all.

**

She got home full and happy, having checked on the girls and now content in the knowledge that they were all safe and accounted for.

In her bliss, she almost missed the imposing, dark figure of Rio’s car in her driveway. She stopped and sighed at it, steeling herself for a conversation that she would prefer never to have with anyone ever in her entire life ever.

She had to though. If he wanted to keep her and if she wanted to be happy with him.

So she stepped into her house even though all she wanted to do was run far away from it.

The moment she crossed the threshold she was immediately on edge, sensing that he was in a poor mood to say the lead. She couldn’t procrastinate though. Not with this.

She saw him sitting impassively on the couch, back turned to her. She couldn’t see his face but she could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was tense. A trap wire held taut and ready to snap at any provocation.

Hey, ba-“

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked quietly.

“I told you I was at lunch with a friend,” she said with forced nonchalance moving to stand in front of him. His expression was thunderous but he didn’t look at her.

“So you couldn’t answer my texts?” he asked, an edge to his voice

“I didn’t want to be rude,” an edge also coming to her own voice.

He nodded slowly, still not looking at her but it wasn’t an understanding nod. It was a nod that said I hear you but I damn well don’t like what I’m hearing.

“Which friend was this?” he asked curiously.

“I fail to see how this is relevant or why you’re so upset,” she retorted.

“Who the fuck was you with?” he bit out.

“I was with my _friend, _Ismael,” she said slowly. “He’s a photographer that I now occasionally work with.”

“Any you didn’t tell me that because…” he said standing up slowly and walking away from her to the other side of the room.

“Because I didn’t think it mattered?” she said in confusion.

“If you’re meeting up with dudes I don’t know, then I need to know,” he bit out suddenly stepping up to her.

“Why?” she asked genuinely confused.

“Because you’re mine, goddamnit!” he shouted making her stumble backwards. She looked at him in fear and he forced himself to take a deep breath and step away from her.

“_I _was your first. _Me,_” he hissed gesturing at himself. “I’m the one who fucking takes care of you.”

“You don’t own me, Christopher,” she said quietly. “You can’t. Not if you really care about me.”

“Who told you that?” he asked paranoid. “That _pendejo_? Ismael?”

“So what if he did? Doesn’t make it any less true,” she countered. “What are you really upset about?”

“Don’t fuckin’ patronize me!” he yelled and she flinched but stood her ground. “I have every right to be upset when _my _fuckin’ girl is sneakin' around behind my back!”

“I can’t have friends now?’ she asked in indignation her voice rising.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say that,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What you’re saying is I’m a cheater,” she said shrilly as he rubbed a hand across his face, muttering angrily.

“I’m a person, Christopher!” she yelled. “I deserve to have a life outside of you!”

“Watch your fuckin’ tone,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“No!” She shouted. “All you do is push me around but we need boundaries. _I _need boundaries.”

“I said watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he growled.

“You’re not listening to me!” she yelled in frustration. “Ismael would never-“

She never finished that sentence. She didn’t finish that sentence because it was preemptively punctuated by the sharp crack of his palm across her cheek. A blow that knocked her to the ground where she looked up at him in shock and anger.

The room was silent, both their chests rising and falling rapidly, her cradling her cheek where she could still feel the imprint of his hand. It was the one indicator that she hadn’t dreamt what had just happened.

He hit her.

_He hit her. _

The realization dawned on him as well and his face warped with dawning horror and shock but she didn’t care about that.

“Baby-“

“Get out,” she whispered, eyes welling with tears.

“No, wait, I-“

“Get out of my house before I call the cops,” she said flatly.

He looked down at her, still breathing heavily, looking like a cornered and caged animal, frozen to the spot and she suddenly couldn’t look at him.

“Get out!!” she screeched. “Get out, get out, get out!”

His shoulders sagged and he nodded minutely before slinking out the front door morosely. The sound of his car starting and pulling away from her house the herald of her tears.

She curled up on her floor and she let the sobs rack her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. If this was painful to read, imagine what it felt like to write. I love Rio, guys why am I writing this?  
I hope you enjoyed that?   
Love you all. Stay safe and sleep well. Or have a good day depending on your time zone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know how to write summaries. Bit of a cliffhanger at the end. Will update tomorrow.

She couldn’t find it in herself to get out of bed.

She felt like The Bride in Kill Bill, incapacitated and laid out, fruitlessly commanding her body to obey her commands to no avail.

The Bride eventually got up though and slaughtered every single man and woman that ever dared wrong her. An angel of vengeance clad in yellow spandex with nothing but a katana and a grudge.

She, on the other hand, didn’t think she could even look Christopher in the eye without possibly being violently ill.

So she lay there.

She felt that she couldn’t possibly cry anymore, feeling dried up and wrung out and stressed out. Every fibre of her being wanted to cry, and scream and beat her chest at the betrayal, at the sheer _unfairness _of it all. But she didn’t have any more to give, not a single tear left to cry.

So there she was, on her back again, no words to be had to describe the tumult of feelings in her heart, and staring at a hole in the ceiling, hoping that some kind of answer or solution would slither therewith.

Instead, the hole remained unforthcoming and she remained on her back.

The minutes ticked by dutifully on her bedside clock, the seconds turning to minutes the minutes turn to hours and the hours turning into hopeless drivel and a sun disappearing steadily behind the horizon. She ignored the hunger pangs that wracked her body and her chapped lips that came with the dehydration of crying so much.

In her hunger, she thought that her ears had started to ring out of starvation and she considered eating something, unwilling to perish over Christopher’s actions. So after gathering all her willpower, she hoisted herself up in bed and she realized that the ringing wasn’t in her ears but was actually coming from her doorbell.

Groaning, she wrapped herself in a dressing gown and hobbled to answer the door and possibly hiss ominously at whoever was disturbing her brooding but she wrenched open her door to find herself faced with Beth, Annie, and Ruby looking extremely panicked.

“Oh my God,” Annie breathed shakily. “You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t answering your texts, we didn’t know what was going on!”

“Uh,” she started. “I do that all the time? You know how I get with work.”

“Yes, but,” Beth piped up before pausing. She seemed to be weighing her words very carefully. “We heard about a home invasion in the neighbourhood and we just needed to check on you.”

“A home invasion?” she asked in shock. “What? Today?”

“Yeah, we just had to make sure you were okay,” Beth said nodding earnestly.

“Oh. Well, I’m fine,” she said wrapping her gown tighter around herself and avoiding their gazes.

“You don’t look fine,” Ruby said sceptically. “Is that, is that a bruise?!”

“What?” she asked, feigning confusion.

“Your cheek, it’s bruised!” Ruby exclaimed pushing into the house and cradling her face gently.

“Oh, right!” she said smacking her forehead. “I fell asleep at my desk. Faceplanted my keyboard really hard. Not fun.”

Ruby was still holding her face and looked her in the eye with concern and scepticism. “You sure you’re okay.”

‘I always am,” she said smiling softly.

“Hey,” Annie interjected from behind Beth. “There’s a huge ass bouquet of flowers on your doorstep.”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“Yeah,” Annie said carrying the flowers inside and handing them to her. “They look like, um, roses? No, chrysanthemums? Marigolds? Oh, shit, they’re-“

“Peonies,” she breathed in wonder, her eyes wide. “They’re peonies. My favourite.”

“Who are they from? Is there a note?” Annie asked peeking at the flowers.

She extracted the note from amongst the petals and it simply read: ‘I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

She froze at that and if she wasn’t so dehydrated she would’ve probably started crying. Instead, her head started to pound, an almighty sound that threatened to floor her.

“What does it say?” Beth asked curiously.

“It’s, uh, it’s private,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” Annie said dragging out the syllables. “Do you know who they’re from?”

“I know _of _who they’re from,” she conceded not quite lying.

“If you don’t know them that well then how’d they know what your favourite flower is?” Beth asked looking panicked.

“They know me well enough to have seen my tattoos up close,” she shrugged. “I’m covered in peonies.”

“I didn’t know that,” Beth said in surprise.

“So it’s not some creep?” Ruby asked worriedly.

“No,” she said quietly. “No, I don’t think he is.”

After mother-henning for a while, the girls left and she was left to her thoughts alone.

She set about making dinner quickly, trying to ignore the dramatic and obnoxious arrangement of white and pink peonies that fought to make their presence known in her periphery.

She couldn’t deny that the peonies softened her up somewhat because she was always a sucker for attentive people and the gesture was quite romantic in a way. She faced the flowers head-on and she tried to piece together what this gesture really meant. Was he really that kind of guy? Was he really sorry? Should she give him a chance?

It wasn’t enough though.

But he said he was sorry.

_It wasn’t enough. _

He had to know that right?

The flowers gave her no answer.

**

Several days passed without hearing from him and she figured he was giving her space. Letting her set the pace, lay the boundaries.

If that was the case then he needed to know that it would take a fuck ton more than flowers to make her forgive him for fucking hitting her.

So she decided to text and let him know this simple fact as she strolled over to Beth’s house to hang out with the girls and exercise her new freedoms.

_Me: You know that it’s gonna take more than flowers right?_

_Christopher: Yeah. I know._

_Christopher: I’m so sorry baby girl._

_Me: It’s all well and good to tell me you’re sorry but how do I know that you won’t hit me again?_

_Christopher: I’m so sorry you got hurt. Again. Lemme show you how good I can be. Please._

_Christopher: Can we talk? Face to face? Later today?_

He was actually asking. Not demanding or simply letting her know what was going down. He was actually _asking. _

She smiled softly at her phone as she neared Beth’s house.

_Me: Yeah. Sure. _

_Christopher: Can I pick you up at 8? Dinner at my place?_

She had never actually been to his place and she couldn’t help but feel like he was finally listening to her and opening up to her in a way that he never had. Maybe he was really changing…

_Me: Sounds good :) _

_Christopher: Thank you_

_Christopher: For giving me a chance_

She tucked her phone back in her pocket with a smile before she turned into Beth’s driveway, the smile falling from her face when she heard a loud crash. She dismissed as the kids probably getting a little too rambunctious but she jerked when it was followed by several even louder crashes of what sounded like crockery and other porcelain.

The silence that followed was deafening and she remembered what the girls had said the night before about home invasions. Her heart sank.

But then she saw a familiar black sedan parked nearby and she could’ve sworn that it looked like Christopher’s car, never having seen that car in the neighbourhood.

Why would he be here?

She peeked through the front room window and she made out Beth’s figure sitting primly at the dining room table, her face slightly distorted and further blocked by a man standing by her. She could see that Beth wasn’t happy but she had a determined set to her shoulders and she seemed to be talking down to another man sitting on the couch looking down, his posture telling her that he was texting. Just then her phone vibrated in her pocket.

The man looked an awful lot like Christopher from the back.

Before she could even think about what she was doing, she was creeping into Beth’s house somehow unnoticed but she was just in time to see the man that looked like Christopher giving a subtle shake of his head.

And to see a gun being lowered from Beth’s head, her eyes red-rimmed.

The man then turned around and she was faced with the man that seemed to consistently hurt her.

She was faced with a man that was undoubtedly Christopher.

“Babe?” she whispered.

“I can explain,” he said softly and she could see Beth, Ruby, and Annie exchanging confused and tearful looks.

“I should hope so,” she said horrified.

She honestly didn’t know how he could explain this away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! I'm a bit sleep deprived due to noisy roommates but hopefully, this came out well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I even bother even typing anything here. Please read and enjoy (?)

“Beth,” she said voice shaking. “What the hell is going?”

They seemed suspended in time, all frozen and looking at each other with eyes wide as saucers. Christopher’s face was impassive though but his eyes tracked her thoughtfully as though she were a bomb raring to go off. She wasn’t interested in him right then, though, she wanted to hear what Beth had to say.

“Well?” she pressed. Beth stared at her in alarm, lip pursed.

Eventually, Beth took a breath and looked away before looking her in the eye and blinking owlishly. “He’s, uh, these are the home invaders but-“

“Why are you lying?” she asked in hurt and confusion. “You’re really gonna look me in the eye and lie to me?”

Beth’s mouth opened to defend herself but no words came out and she honestly couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Beth,” Ruby said shaking her head in defeat.

Beth looked at Ruby for a moment before steeling her shoulders and facing her again, her hair flipping slightly.

“We robbed the grocery store,” Beth declared shakily.

“You what?” she breathed in disbelief.

“We robbed Fine and Frugal,” Annie admitted quietly.

“Why?” she asked shrilly.

“Dean was cheating on me and I found out that we were behind on a few mortgages, our credit cards all had advances on them, and we were about to lose the house,” Beth said tiredly.

“Sarah’s medicine,” Ruby said simply looking forlorn. “We can’t wait for a transplant and she needs the medicine or she’ll…”

“Gregg is suing me for custody of Sadie and I couldn’t afford a lawyer,” Annie sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked tiredly. “We could’ve come up with a plan. Anything but robbing a fucking grocery store.”

They looked down in shame and she sighed, feeling a headache building at her temples.

“Well,” she breathed, looking at Christopher. “I suppose it’s time for that talk.”

He nodded slowly, looking wary and they started to walk out, his cronies following dutifully behind him.

“Where are you going?” Beth called out. “Hey!”

“Out, she answered simply. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’d like to talk to you as well.”

She fixed Beth with a firm stare when she said this and Beth pursed her lips and nodded slightly, unwilling to argue.

She nodded and steeling herself she walked out of Beth’s front door with the man that had a gun held to her best friend’s head.

**

She found herself sitting stiffly in an armchair in Christopher’s apartment, her eyes taking in the spacious and well-decorated loft, each square-inch dripping money.

Who was this guy? His apartment told her that he didn’t need to be robbing anyone let alone invading anyone’s home. She could be wrong but she didn’t think pawning off other people’s belongings got you an apartment like this. The man had hardwood flooring. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was wearing a cashmere sweater.

As her eyes wandered, they landed on several framed pictures of Christopher with a little boy, both of them smiling widely, the boy missing some of his baby teeth. Cute.

“So what? You ain’t gon say nothin’?” Christopher grumbled from his armchair across from her. He was reclined lazily and he stared at her impassively over the hand that covered his mouth, projecting an air of indifference but she could tell that he was tense.

“I was distracted,” she said honestly. “Nice place.”

“Get to the point,” he intoned flatly.

“Fine,” she said primly. “Why did you almost kill my best friends?”

“They stole from me,” he said simply.

“They stole from the grocery store,” she corrected. “Do you own it?”

He scoffed at that, rolling his eyes slightly and her hackles raised. “I look like some kinda grocery store manager to you?”

“What do you use it for then?” she asked. “And don’t try and lie to me. I’ve had enough of that today.”

“Washin’ counterfeit money,” he said after a beat.

“Huh,” she breathed.

“What? That’s all? ‘Huh’,” he asked in confusion.

“It makes sense,” she sighed. “Look at your apartment. Also why else would you have a supermarket? If you owned it legitimately, you wouldn’t deal with a robbery by rocking up, guns blazing.”

He seemed at a loss for words and she figured that he expected her to blow up at him but she needed answers and she wouldn’t get them by kicking up a fuss.

“So what? You’re in a gang?” she asked tiredly.

“I have one, yeah,” he shrugged.

“Oh, so you’re the big boss,” she said sarcastically. “That explains a lot.”

She said the last part quietly and she hoped that he hadn’t heard but something in his eyes told her that he had heard and he didn’t like what he had heard.

“What stopped you from killing them?” she asked shakily. “You seemed very…willing.”

He looked away at that and she saw his jaw working as he processed her question and all of its implications but her gaze did not waver as she awaited an answer.

“Your blonde friend, she said somethin’ about how they couldn’t die ‘cause that would light a fire under my ass. That if I killed them, some people would miss them,” he said levelly, looking at her meaningfully.

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Are you saying that,” she started. “Are you saying that you didn’t kill them because of me?”

He simply looked away and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

He sighed and then looked back at her, leaning forward earnestly. “Look, I’m new to this whole relationship thing and I know I’ve hurt you before. I couldn’t do that to you again.”

“About that,” she said, voice slightly strangled. “Is that what I have to look forward to? Every time I don’t agree with you or we argue you, you, you….”

She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“It fuckin’ kills me that that happened,” he whispered. “I hate that that happened. I just got back in this headspace but I can explain.”

She nodded at him indicating that he should continue and he sighed deeply, his brow furrowed.

“I had a pretty fucked up childhood,” he started pretty quietly. “My dad was a real bastard and a fuckin drunk. He’d rough my ma and I up pretty bad for years until she left. I was so _angry _all the fuckin’ time ‘cause I felt so powerless. She, uh, she didn’t take me with her.

“I don’t know. That day, I was so fuckin’ pissed cos of that robbery and you weren’t answering your phone. I needed you but you weren’t there and it felt like I was a little kid again. I guess I never really stopped being angry.

Her heart ached for him and after days of piecing herself back together, she felt tears streaming down her face in spite of herself. Had she been selfish that day? Not paying any heed to his feelings?

“It came so naturally to you though,” she said quietly and tearfully. “You didn’t hesitate. You _said _you would be good to me!”

“I did,” he conceded contritely. “It’s just, you were shouting at me and I just lost it. I’m new to this kind of relationship but I was with someone just before you. She liked it when I pushed her around when I hit her…I guess I was still in that whole Dom headspace. And you made it so easy when you called me Daddy. I didn’t have much control when I was younger. It’s…difficult for me not to be…dominant especially when you’re so…you,” he finished awkwardly.

She didn’t really know what to say to that. The room descending into an uncomfortable silence. He had essentially bared his soul to her and she felt a little bad about the dressing down that she had been planning on giving him. Though, in spite of whatever he had divulged, she had to make one thing clear.

“Would it be…easier? For me to be your, ahem, sub?” she asked quietly. He nodded, his breath heavy and his expression uncertain.

“I, I’ll try. But you can’t do that to me again,” she whispered desperately. “Everyone is very suspicious of you. Now more so than ever. No doubt everyone will beg me not to see you anymore.”

He moved quickly to kneel at her feet again and her heart softened even more at his pained expression. His arms wrapped around desperately as though she would vanish into mist if he didn’t hold onto her.

“I can’t live without you,” he rasped. “The past few days have been hell. I can’t live without you, baby girl. I can’t. I _won’t._”

“You, you, don’t need me, Christopher,” she said weakly. “You can have anyone you want.”

“I want _you_!” he begged. “Please stay with me. I can’t be alone again, I’ll kill myself. You’re all I have. You’re all I want.”

“Don’t say that,” she said tearfully. “Don’t you dare hurt yourself. Do you have any idea what that would do to me?”

“Then _stay!_” he rasped imploringly.

She took a deep shuddering breath and she wondered if they really could save this whole thing that they got caught up in. He was in a gang and obviously damaged and irrevocably changed by a life of abuse and crime.

“Please,” he repeated. “Please stay with me.”

Tears rolled down her face almost in slow motion, her throat clogged with so many emotions that she had no hope of naming some of them.

She cradled his face gently and she saw the raw desperation in his eyes almost akin to hunger. She simply nodded at him, smiling shakily and he grinned ecstatically at her before standing and sweeping her up in into a hug in the process.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbled peppering her face with kisses. “You’re mine, it’s fate. You’re my girl. I’ll make you see that. I’m gonna be the best you ever had. I swear to God. I love you so much. My sweet girl. I’ll keep you forever. I’m gonna make you so happy.”

He didn’t seem to be aware of what he said and she let him hold her and she, in turn, clung to him. She was happy. So happy. When he was good to her, he was amazing.

Why did it feel like a mistake?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't take back your abusers, loves. Don't.   
This chapter took years off my lifespan and it just...wouldn't come out. I apologise for the late upload.   
I feel like it's useless to hope you enjoyed that. I'm sorry y'all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Yup, just smut.

She was curled up on the couch reading when a slim, white box obstructed her kindle.

She stared at the object dumbly before looking up at Christopher who was smiling somewhat nervously and expectantly at her.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” she said teasingly.

He wordlessly handed her two bags of jellybeans with a smirk and she narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.

“You’re buttering me up,” she said in realization. “Why?”

“I can’t just get my baby girl some nice stuff?” he asked in feigned hurt, plopping down on the couch. “You’re hurtin’ my feelings, baby.”

“Hm, I’m sure,” she deadpanned. “Seriously, what is it?”

“I know you love those hunks of sugar- don’t make that face, you know those are bad for you- and while I’d prefer that you didn’t eat this shit, I thought I’d treat you,” Christopher shrugged.

“And you’re bribing me with candy because…” she pressed.

“So you know what I do,” he began.

“Money laundering, yes,” she nodded sagely.

He scoffed at her teasing tone and glared playfully at her before continuing. “Well, in this business you gotta square things off with people. Forgiveness ain’t really an option.”

“Where are you going with this?” she asked quietly.

“Your girls are gonna do a quick pick-up and drop for me,” he said simply. It wasn’t a question.

“Where?” she asked worriedly.

“Canada.”

She sighed deeply as she tore open one bag of jellybeans and started to chew on a handful despondently.

“And it’s just money, right? No drugs or anything?” she asked worriedly.

“It’s just money. Well, it’s money printed on wrapping paper but yeah, it’s just money,” he said casually.

“And if they do this, do this for you, you won’t bother them anymore, right?” she asked almost pleadingly. “That’ll be the end of it?”

“Of course, baby,” he said quietly, moving close to wrap an arm around her and kiss her cheek.

She sighed and nodded, leaning into his embrace and she could feel that he was being sincere, the familiar strength of his arms grounding her.

Ever since their big talk, things were awkward for a bit but it appeared mostly one-sided, Christopher immediately trying to show her that they were meant to be together. He doted on her endlessly and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t basking in his attention. When he looked at her it was like nothing else existed, nothing else mattered except her. And for her, there was nothing else, no one else except him. It stopped being hard to defer to him because he was everything to her.

“And what’s this?” she asked holding up the box.

“Remember how you said you would, uh, try,” he started uncertainly. “Try and be good for me, be my baby girl.”

She stiffened at that, that part of their conversation had remained untouched and part of her was grateful. She wasn’t sure if she could be that for him but he was right. She’d said she would try.

“Oh,” she said dumbly, looking down at the box like it would jump out and bite her.

“You did say that,” he said insistently, turning her face to his. “You said you would try.”

“I know, I know,” she breathed. “I did say that. I’m sorry. So what’s in here?”

“Open it,” he smirked, his eyes darkening slightly and she felt a shiver race down her spine.

She regarded the box, slim, white, and nondescript. The plainness of it intimidating her and making her mind run wild as to what its contents could be. Handcuffs? A collar? Slowly, she opened the box, and she found that its contents were still obstructed by a white crèpe paper sheath which she pulled back to finally reveal the contents of the box.

The box seemed to contained swathes of cream white lace, delicate and elegant and her hands immediately reached out to touch the material. She held up a high necked bra that tied at the neck with an open back, the item so light it was barely there. It came with lacy garter panties and below them were white stockings trimmed with lace. It was cute and almost…virginal.

She noted absently that everything was perfectly sized to her measurements.

“You, you want me to wear this?” she asked timidly.

“Among other things, yes,” he said huskily, his arms tightening around her.

“I don’t know if I could pull this off,” she said nervously. “I’m not exactly a Victoria’s Secret model.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he insisted, kissing her cheek. He didn’t like it when she spoke badly of herself. “And you’ll look amazing it that. That’s why I bought it.”

“How much did this cost anyway?” she asked suddenly horrified.

“That’s not important,” he said firmly. “Go try it on.”

She eyed him sceptically and sighed before starting to get up and go to her bedroom, her palms growing sweaty, nervous at what was sure to be an embarrassment.

“Don’t laugh, okay?” she said walking past him and she was answered with a swat to her bum that made her yelp and giggle.

She closed her bedroom door softly behind her and leaned against it, sighing. She leaned her head back to thump lightly against the door and she tried to recall a moment when she had felt more awkward and uncomfortable. She drew up blanks.

She thought about going back out there and telling Christopher that she couldn’t do it. That she wasn’t comfortable doing this.

But she said she would try.

She pushed off from the door and placed the box on the bed before stripping quickly and steeling herself. She slipped the bra on and she was slightly surprised by how perfectly it fit, the lace moulding perfectly to her form, the same with the panties and stockings.

Clipping the garters to the stockings, she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror and she was at a loss for words.

She didn’t know if she looked good per se but she definitely liked how she looked. The lingerie was comfortable and it accentuated her curves in a way that she didn’t think even her clothes did, the white lace contrasting nicely against her dark skin.

“Babe?” Christopher called out, his voice slightly muffled. “You okay? I thought you’d be pretty experienced putting a bra on.”

She could almost hear the smirk in his voice and she huffed in amusement despite the nervousness she felt. She picked nervously at the hem of her stocking, still contemplating her reflection before she started to move towards the door.

“I’m coming,” she yelled back.

She tiptoed shyly back into the living room, her palms sweaty and she stood in the entranceway with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her eyes downcast as she stood across from him.

He was quiet, so quiet that had she not had her eyes on his black-sneakers she would’ve wondered if he was even still there. The silence persisted for several moments and she figured that this experiment had tanked spectacularly.

“I, um, I told you I couldn’t-“

“Look at me, baby,” he whispered. She couldn’t bear to see him smile sadly and tell her to get dressed. She kept her eyes down.

“I said,” he growled darkly. “Look. At. Me.”

She immediately looked up, not used to hearing him like that. He was usually a very dominant guy but this was different. This was terrifying.

“Come here,” he commanded his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

She shakily stepped towards where he was seated on the couch, her legs seeming to move on autopilot in response to his commanding tone. She came to a stop just before him, looking down at him expectantly, and her chest rising and falling heavily.

“Sit on my lap,” he said with a smirk. Feeling like she was on fire, she complied, straddling him and she felt the beginnings of an erection.

“Doesn’t my little girl look so pretty,” he whispered, brushing her braids out of her face. “So pretty.”

She was burning with embarrassment under his praise but she couldn’t deny that she was preening at the same time.

“Is my pretty little girl gonna be good for me?” he asked cradling her face. “Hm? You gonna do what I say?”

She found herself nodding eagerly, liking the feeling of giving up control, the freedom of handing him the reins.

“Use your words, baby,” he tutted mockingly.

“Yes,” she breathed, wide-eyed.

“Yes, what?”

She knew exactly what he wanted to hear and part of her was thrilled while the rest of her was wary about how far this would go.

She was wrenched out of her hesitation when the hand cradling her face came to wrap firmly around her throat, his hand squeezing at the sides of her neck making her mewl and whimper in a mixture of fear and arousal.

“Yes, what?” he pressed.

“Yes, yes, daddy,” she gasped, grinding slightly against him and making him growl, his hand flexing on her neck. He took his other and slid it down the back of her panties, pushing them to the side, and his fingers sliding along her sopping wet slit making her buck in his lap and gasp.

“Look at that,” he said faux amazement. “My little girl is so wet for Papi already. That’s for me, right?”

“Yes, Papi,” she moaned grinding against his hand. “Yours.”

He slipped a finger inside her and she shuddered at the intrusion, his finger thick but not hitting the spot that made her see stars. He slipped in another finger and she was sure she must have been dripping all over his fingers. He thrust his fingers in and out of her, rubbing lazily at her walls and scissoring his fingers making her moan and shiver but not giving her enough to cum. The hand at her neck gripping her possessively as she came apart on his fingers.

“You see? You like this,” he said smugly, not ceasing his ministrations. “Daddy’s little slut. Getting off on getting bossed around and choked. Whore.”

She burned in embarrassment but she felt herself clench at his degradation, probably further drenching his fingers.

“Oho,” he chuckled. “You like that? You like being called a slut?”

He moved his fingers to rub at her g-spot circling it lazily before slipping in another finger, the stretch delicious and enough to make her drool, making her let out little half moans that came out more like pants.

“Answer me,” he insisted pressing on her g-spot.

“Your- your slut,” she stuttered, eyes rolling back.

“Yeah, mine,” he said darkly. “Nobody else could make you feel like this, huh?”

“No, daddy,” she mumbled half delirious as his fingers picked up the pace.

“You wanna cum, baby girl?” he asked breathily and all she could do was nod desperately.

“Please, please, please…”

He sped up and worked her relentlessly until she was almost at the point of no return. She was so close…

But then he stopped and she almost sobbed in frustration.

“This is my pussy,” he said with a smirk, letting her come down but leaving his fingers inside her almost as a statement. “I decide when it gets to cum. Ain’t that right?”

Some part of her that could think logically wanted to say no, sir, I am the only one who can stake claim to my body parts but the rest of her was horny and nodded frantically.

“I want you on the bed, face down, ass up,” he ordered, smacking her ass. “Go.”

Almost on autopilot, she shakily stood up and swaying slightly on her feet, she made her way to the bedroom, positioning herself as he had ordered her to do. She knelt there, her face nestled in her pillows as she presented herself.

Soon, she heard him step into the room and she suddenly felt herself tense in embarrassment at how exposed and vulnerable she was. She felt the hot brand of his gaze running over her prone form, his gaze so penetrating it was almost tangible.

She was shaking then, in embarrassment and arousal, her panties wet and plastered against her quivering sex. She heard him shucking his clothes and she trembled even more in anticipation, her breath picking up speed just from his proximity.

Soon, she felt the bed shift as he knelt on it behind her and she gasped when a strong hand rubbed her ass, gripping the flesh possessively. He rubbed at her ass gently and she sighed in arousal at his touch before he suddenly pulled his hand back and struck her firmly, the slap on her ass reverberating throughout the room. Through her shock and confusion, she realized that the sound of the smack was interspersed with a high keening moan. It was strange. It hurt but coupled with her arousal, it felt good. The sting of it reverberating through her pussy making her toes curl.

“You liked that,” he rumbled appreciatively. “You’re meant to be mine. Who else could get you like this?”

He struck her again, slightly harder this time before rubbing and squeezing the area gently and she moaned, pushing back into the touch.

“Slut,” he hissed, enunciating the word carefully. “Any touch and you’re moaning like a whore.”

“Papi,” she mewled, hiding her face in the pillows.

He struck her again and she let out a wanton groan, the pain and pleasure mingling, wires in her mind crossing incomprehensibly.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” he chuckled darkly. “Getting spanked and called a slut and a whore?”

For some reason, she felt the need to deny it and she shook her head helplessly into the pillows despite the fact that she was getting off on it. It was all she could do to not beg him to take her until she couldn’t speak but a part of her wanted to be defiant.

“What’s that? No?” he tutted in mock disappointment. “Don’t lie to me.”

He suddenly pulled her panties to the side again and shoved two fingers inside her, barely any resistance due to how sopping wet she was, her pussy ready and eager to be filled. He thrust them in and out of her roughly and she sobbed at the intrusion, her hips involuntarily moving to try and fuck herself on his fingers but a strong hand held her in place as he fingered her mercilessly, the only sound obscene squelching and muffled moans.

“What a horny little slut,” he mused. “You’re dripping.

He let go of her hip and suddenly smacked her again making her groan in ecstasy and clench around his fingers.

“Say that you like it,” he ordered. “Say that you like it when I spank you.”

“I-I-I like it, daddy,” she gasped. “Please, Papi.”

“Please? Please what?” he asked curiously. “What do you want?”

“I want it, please,” she begged helplessly.

“Go on, say it,” he hissed leaning over her to whisper into her ear. “Say that you want me to stuff you full of cock.”

“Daddy!” she whined on the verge of tears wanting nothing more than to cum but embarrassed.

“Say it, you little cockslut,” he husked.

“Please stuff me full of cock, daddy,” she sobbed. “Please fuck me, daddy. I wanna cum, I wanna cum so bad, I wanna cum on your dick.”

“Oh, baby girl,” he cooed. “I thought you would never ask.”

She felt him take his fingers out of her pussy and she whined at the emptiness but she suddenly felt the hot, blunt head of his cock rubbing at her folds and she shivered in anticipation, moaning softly. He slowly slipped the head of his cock into her and she grabbed at the sheets desperately before he slammed roughly into her tearing a scream out of her.

He gave her no time to adjust, thrusting roughly into her, his hands holding her hips in a bruising grip that made her pussy weep all over his cock. He fucked her quickly and without mercy and she couldn’t think about anything past the rough drag of his cock on her walls, her release so close.

He brought his hand down on her ass again and she felt her walls flutter around his cock, making him snarl out a curse behind her. He leaned over, covering her back with his chest before he grabbed a handful of her braids, pulling hard and making her moan and arch her back.

“This is my pussy,” he snarled into her ear. “I’m the only one that’s ever gonna fuck this pussy. I’m the only one that’s ever gonna make this pussy cream.”

He kept whispering filthy things into her ear, making her eyes roll back, somehow igniting her arousal even further, his cock nudging a spot inside her that had her drooling.

“Oh, fuck, daddy, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please, please, please. Can I? Can I cum on your cock?” she mumbled deliriously.

Suddenly she felt a hand rubbing roughly at her clit and her legs almost buckled at the contact. She felt impaled on his cock, the double assault making her walls flutter as she neared her climax.

The hand on her clit suddenly smacked her sex and she came undone, moaning and gasping as she gushed around his cock, still pistoning in and out of her relentlessly as he fucked her through her orgasm.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you. Squirting on my fuckin’ dick,” he growled chasing his own release. “What a little slut.”

“Daddy,” she moaned as he continued his assault on her sensitive walls.

“I’m gonna cum in this pussy. My pussy. Stuff you full of my cum. Mine. Mine,” he breathed.

He rubbed at her clit again, pinching and pulling, making her groan throatily as she hurtled towards another orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably, the clenching of her walls making his hips stutter as he thrust as deep as possible, filling her with hot cum and making her shiver and moan.

He kept thrusting lazily in and out of her as he softened, his member twitching as he spurted his release inside of her, making her feel full and marked.

He pulled out of her slowly and she collapsed on the bed worn out. Sleep swiftly took her and she faintly registered kisses on her shoulder and Christopher mumbling one word.

“Mine.”

**

Seeing her like that, submissive, prostrated,  _ shaking in pleasure _ …it was almost religious.

With every moan and every whimper it just made him more determined to keep her. After all, every single thing he had been dreaming of doing to her made her sigh so sweetly. She was blooming for him and it was more beautiful than he could have ever dreamed.

He watched her face, passive in sleep, virginal and angelic in white lace. It was clear to him in that moment, sated and somehow hungrier than ever before, that she craved it as much as he did. She  _ needed  _ a firm hand, she craved the subjugation and who would he be to deny her?

He hadn’t been lying. He did love her. As much as a man like him could love anything or anyone. Love was unfamiliar to him but he did not know what else to call the fire that threatened to consume him.

She was like fire. Volatile, unpredictable. She had some silly notions of independence and she was headstrong but he knew she had just gone too long without someone to take care of her. She could barely remember to feed herself without him. She  _ needed  _ him.

He needed her.

No, he wanted her. He had never desired anything so covetously before. His mind was filled with scenarios where she would leave him. Where someone would take her from him.

He resolved to never allow that to happen. He would die before that happened.

He would just make sure that she would never want to leave. By any means.

Simple as that.

He wasn’t a good man. Not by any stretch of the imagination and she would come to see that eventually but by then, she would realise that he was everything she ever needed and everything she would ever need.

He wrapped an arm tightly around her, pulling her close to his chest and he felt her sigh contentedly against his bare skin and he shivered.

A firm hand. That’s all she needed. A hand that would never let her go.

And she would thank him for it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed that! Thank you so much to [CinntaxError](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinntaxError/pseuds/CinntaxError) for beta-reading this chapter! You're the best!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in advance so I don't actually remember what's in this chapter lol  
All mistakes are my own

She slowly blinked open her eyes, squinting as her eyes tried to adjust to the low light of the room. 

Her face was smushed into her pillow and she groaned into it as she stretched her body, relishing the release of tension with a sigh. Her entire body felt thoroughly worked, each muscle tender and sore in the best way, each ache culminating in the tenderness and wetness between her legs. She smiled slightly to herself as she rolled onto her side to grab her phone but next to her phone was a post-it which she grabbed curiously. 

_ Hey, baby girl, _

_ I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. I had to go keep an eye on some things and make sure your girls make the drop.  _

_ I’ll be back late, don’t wait up. Eat something that isn’t jellybeans. I’ll know if you don’t.  _

_ I left another present for you in your bedside drawer, you’ll know what to do with it. Don’t take it out until I say so. And don’t even think about making yourself cum. _

_ Daddy  _

She frowned in confusion at the last part of the note but she opened her bedside drawer nonetheless. Inside, was a brightly coloured toy and her frown deepened. It was fairly long with a flared base that tapered before flaring out again into a bulbous penile head. A plug. 

Needless, to say she was intimidated. It wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination.

He didn’t really give her the option to not put it in, instead favouring a scenario in which she obeys him unquestioningly. 

She didn’t have to do it. Right?

_ You said you would try.  _

She sighed heavily as she grabbed the toy and it felt heavy and cold in her hand. She had said that she would try. 

She steeled herself and lay back on the bed. She tried to relax, putting the toy beside her as she tried to prep herself for it. She thought about the last few hours and a thrill went through her at Christopher’s raw display of dominance and desire. She thought about how he degraded her and she liked it, how he touched her so roughly and she was practically squirting. Soon, she was getting excited, her nipples pebbling through the lace she was still wearing and she rubbed at them, pinching and pulling them, and making herself moan quietly. 

She thought about how deliciously he filled her and how she suddenly felt unbearably empty. She thought about how she wished she could be full like that all the time if she did this. She thought about how this would please him. 

She was panting heavily then, her hands roaming over her own body as she worked herself up. Her hands roamed between her legs and she found herself extremely wet with what she remembered with his cum. She inhaled sharply with a hiss, relishing the feeling of being marked and she rubbed frantically at her engorged clit. She rubbed along her folds with a gasp her fingers dipping into herself teasingly as she felt herself grow wetter and wetter. She suddenly found herself on the cusp of orgasm and her back arched as her walls started to flutter. She was so close…

_ Don’t even think about making yourself cum.  _

Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away, her body covered in a sheen of sweat, her chest rising and falling heavily. She fumbled for the toy and she grasped it firmly before placing it between her legs, rubbing the bulbous tip along he folds and trying not to make herself cum. 

She slowly thrust the tip into her sopping opening and she whimpered at the stretch, resisting the urge to thrust it into herself in one go. She inched the toy into her slick channel relishing the stretch as she gasped in ecstasy. Soon, she had gotten past the flared head and the toy slid quickly into place, the flared base nestled perfectly against her, and pressing insistently at her g-spot and she wanted to sob. 

She arched her back and writhed on her bed as she resisted the urge to fuck herself with the toy. She took some shuddering steadying breaths before she felt like she could get up again. 

She swung her legs over the side of her bed and she doubled over when the plug shifted inside her. She shakily stood up and she swayed on her feet wondering why she agreed to do this. 

Okay, she was standing. Great. Now, time for a shower. 

The bathroom was suddenly  _ really  _ far away. 

Shit. 

**

She was on the couch the afternoon clutching a hot chocolate because she couldn’t be bothered to cook and trying and failing to ignore the plug that was still nestled inside her. It was really getting to be too much.

Suddenly, the front door opened and she jerked slightly before relaxing when she was it was Christopher, who was sauntered in casually. How did he even get in?

“Did I, did I give you a key?” she asked looking down in confusion. “I don’t remember-”

“Yeah,” he chuckled easily, sitting on the couch. “It was a while ago so I don’t blame you for not remembering.”

“What? When?” she asked incredulously. Did she really?

He fixed her with a long, contemplative stare, and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “You really don’t remember, huh?”

She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out and so she shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. 

“Like not at all?” he asked laughing slightly and she suddenly felt the urge to insist that she did, in fact, remember but she was drawing up blanks. When did she give him a key to her house?

“Hey,” he said softly. “It’s cool if you don’t remember. You had a lot on your plate. No big deal.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, still unsettled that she was seemingly missing time. “No big deal.”

“Anyway,” he sighed, reclining and putting his feet up on an ottoman. “You ain’t gon believe what happened.”

“Well, go on. Tell me,” she said trying to shake off the confusion she was still feeling. 

“Your friend, Beth, she asked for another job,” he said in amusement. 

“She did what!?” she exclaimed in shock. “You said no, right?”

“Why would I do somethin’ like that?” he chuckled easily. “I’m a nice guy. I like to help people.”

“Beth getting involved with a gang is  _ not  _ helpful, Christopher!” she said in exasperation. 

“I’m sorry, who’s Christopher?” he asked in feigned confusion and she looked at him incredulously but he simply raised an eyebrow and looked at her meaningfully. 

“That’s not what I’d call helpful, daddy,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Hey, I’m gon’ give her something real easy that even she can’t fuck up,” he drawled.

“Like what?” she asked suspiciously. 

“All she has to do is play nurse for a friend of mine,” he shrugged.

“What? One of your boys has a cold or something?” she scoffed. 

“Don’t sass me, little girl,” he said firmly, eyes seeming to cut through her and she stiffened in what she thought was fear. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she said quietly. 

“To answer your question,” he said relaxing again. “I got a kid that got shot.”

“Beth is nowhere near qualified to take care of a gunshot victim,” she said trying to get through to him. 

“The kid just needs somewhere to lay low,” Christopher shrugged. “I’m sure Beth is used to babysitting. This is what she wanted. She doesn’t get to pick and choose what jobs she wants.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. She knew she couldn’t change his mind and he was right about one thing. Beth did ask for another job. 

“On to the next order of business,” he said smirking at her. “Did you eat something other than jellybeans.”

She stiffened at the question. “Uh, yeah, last night and this morning.”

“What did you eat?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I had stir-fry last night and eggs and toast this morning,” she shrugged looking away. 

He hummed thoughtfully. “Do you wanna explain to me why you haven’t eaten lunch even though it’s 3 pm?”

She opened her mouth to defend herself but her defence was admittedly weak and she had a feeling that he knew that. Lying was definitely pointless.

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” she mumbled. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he said wryly.

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” she half-whined. 

She finally looked at him and she saw that he did not look pleased at all. If anything, he looked almost annoyed. 

“I was gonna cook in a minute,” she tried weakly. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asked sceptically and she nodded earnestly. 

He heaved a deep sigh and she was overcome with a deep sense of shame that surprised her. 

“Did you at least do the other thing I asked you to do,” he asked, voice tinged with irritation. 

“Yes, yes,” she answered earnestly wanting to please him and she was reminded of the plug that was still pressing against her g-spot. 

“Good, good,” he nodded. “You’re gonna wear that until I say you can take it out. That’s your punishment.”

“Wha- what?” she stammered. “But I said I was sorry.”

“You should be happy I’m not spanking you till you can’t walk,” he said through gritted teeth. 

She huffed and pouted, feeling very much like a petulant child but not really caring. She was also a little hurt that he was threatening to hit her.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she said quietly. 

“Look,” he said tiredly. “Part of this dynamic, part of submitting to me is trusting that I got you and that everything I do is to take care of you. If you don’t listen to me, then I need to punish you until you learn that listening to me is for your own good.”

She eyed him sceptically still feeling petulant until he sighed and tugged her closer, cradling her face in his hand, and his thumb trailing along her bottom lip, making her shiver. 

“You said you would try,” he said lowly, his face sad.

“Okay,” she said quickly. “The punishment isn’t so bad anyway.”

Yes, it was. 

“Really?” he asked smirking. 

“I can take it,” she said feigning confidence.

Could she?

“That’s my good little girl,” he said huskily and she basked in his praise, her earlier shame all but forgotten. 

She could take it.

**

She wasn’t so sure if she could take it anymore. 

She was sure that “sitting on a bench in Beth’s backyard at Beth’s son’s birthday party while leaking around a plug”, was definitely going to be emblazoned on whatever documentation would send her to hell. 

Her knees were clamped together, her hands clutched tightly around a styrofoam cup of Dr Pepper as she tried with Herculean effort to act natural. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Beth asked from behind her and she twisted quickly around making the plug shift and earning a wince. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” she said quickly sounding slightly out of breath. 

“You look super tense and,” Beth said looking concerned. “Are you sweating?”

“I’m just a bit warm. Must be ovulating,” she said flippantly.

“Okay,” Beth said slowly. 

“Nice party,” she said, deftly changing the topic. 

“Expensive party,” Beth corrected. “Dean just couldn’t say no to Kenny. Even though it’s his fault we’re in this mess.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“Didn’t I tell you?” Beth asked in confusion and she shook her head. “Dean wasn’t exactly forthcoming about our financial situation. He made a few dumbass decisions at work which he kept me in the dark about. We almost lost the house. Oh, and he was screwing his secretary.”

“What a dickhead,” she breathed. “Oh, my god. I didn’t know. Is that why Kenny was blowing out his birthday candles wishing for Daddy to live at home again?  _ Is that why you hit the grocery store? _ ”

“Yeah,” Beth sighed, looking about a hundred years older. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t really been there for you,” she started, guilt weighing on her. 

“No, I didn’t want you involved,” Beth sighed. “Things could go sideways any minute.”

“You were square though,” she pressed on. “Why did you ask him for another job?”

Beth sighed and opened her mouth to answer when her brow furrowed and she suddenly felt pinned under Beth’s gaze. 

“How did you know that?” Beth demanded. 

“He told me,” she shrugged. 

“Why would he do that?” Beth demanded. “Why would he be talking to you about anything?”

“Why  _ he  _ does anything ain’t none of your business,” a deep voice drawled. 

She looked up and sure enough, Christopher was there looming over them, lips pursed, and an eyebrow raised daring Beth to argue with him. 

Before she could ask him why he was there, Beth beat her to the punch. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Beth hissed quietly. “Whatever. Let’s talk inside.”

Once sequestered in the kitchen, leaving screaming children and watchful parents outside, Beth turned to Rio, her face a mixture of fear and anger. 

“You can’t just walk in here!” Beth hissed again. 

“The door was open,” Christopher said flatly, not even looking at Beth in favour of looking at some pictures on a table. 

“Because I’m having a party with children and their parents!” Beth said imploringly. “Did you bring a gun? Of course, you brought a gun.”

The remark drew her eyes to the golden pistol at his hip with black accents and it seemed to only hit her then that this man that took care of her and even loved her, was dangerous.

“This your husband?” he asked casually picking up one of the pictures of Beth’s wedding.

“Yes,” Beth said, sounding a little put off by the seemingly innocuous question. 

“What’s he do?”

“He sells cars,” Beth said looking a little irritated. 

“He good at it?”

“Ye- why does it even matter?” Beth hissed. 

“Yeah, ‘cause he don’t look too trustworthy to me,” Christopher remarked. 

“What do you want?” Beth asked finally. 

He simply regarded Beth with a smirk, looking like he wanted to toy with Beth a little more but she couldn’t deny the flicker of jealousy that flared inside her when she saw his eyes roving over Beth.

“What is it?” Beth pressed impatiently. 

“I came to pick up my boy,” Christopher said.

“That’s hilarious,” Beth deadpanned. “He’s not here. And by the way, when he left he held me at gunpoint and then stole my car! So I’m gonna need payment for that too.”

“He what?” she asked alarmed.

Christopher simply raised an eyebrow before nodding and looking away as Beth spoke, seemingly deep in thought.

“Oh, I’m sorry what payment?” Christopher asked feigning confusion.

Oh, no.

“Excuse me?” Beth asked, affronted.

“Yeah, you get paid when you do a job. Did you do a job?” Christopher asked.

“He left,” Beth said defensively.

“Then that’s on you,” Christopher retorted condescendingly.

“What am I supposed to do? Chain him to a bed?” Beth asked incredulously.

“Oh, baby, what you think this is? Little League?” Christopher chuckled and she flinched when he called Beth that, earning a sidelong glance. “And you get a trophy just for playing?”

“I tried,” Beth said firmly, standing her ground.

“I don’t give a damn if you tried. You gotta win, bitch,” he bit out and she flinched at his tone.

“Babe?” she whispered and he looked at her, his cruel expression softening. She absently noted Beth’s shocked expression.

“Beth?” a voice tentatively asked. It was Dean. “You- You okay?”

“Fine, yeah,” Beth chirped, as Christopher looked over his shoulder at Dean, looking unimpressed. “Fine.”

Christopher simply sauntered out of the room muttering “Cars, huh?” as he bumped Deans arm. Beth hurried back outside to the party but when she looked back she saw Christopher waiting in the hallway with an expectant expression and she hurried to meet him. 

They walked towards the door making to leave but interrupted by the creepy manager from Fine and Frugal that Annie always complained about. 

“Hey, you look really familiar,” the manager, Boomer if she remembered correctly, remarked to Christopher. “Have we met before?”

“No,” Christopher said flippantly barely even looking at the guy. 

“He’s my boyfriend,” she piped up, grabbing Christopher’s hand. “You probably saw us at the store.”

“Is that where you met?” Boomer asked looking suspicious. 

“Not all of us have to resort to harassment to get a date,” she retorted snidely. 

Boomer jerked like he’d been slapped. “Now, hold on a minute-”

“Just. Stay away from my friends. Creep,” she sneered and she pulled Christopher out of the house.

Outside the house, standing by Christopher’s car, she sighed and fidgeted not really knowing what to say to him. 

“What was all that about?” he asked sounding slightly amused. 

“That guy,” she sighed. “Annie’s always talking about how awful is. I saw the way she looked at him at the party. I think he did something to her.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked casually looking around. 

“I don’t know for sure but I just have a bad feeling. I think he knows about the whole, um,  _ gang and money laundering thing _ ,” she finished quietly. 

“Why’s that?” Christopher laughed quietly.

“I mean, he’s the manager at the grocery store,” she said in confusion. “What manager doesn’t know that his store’s a money-laundering front? He must know you.”

“He might,” Christopher shrugged. 

“Why aren’t you more worried?!” she asked in frustration. 

“I can take care of him,” Christopher shrugged and her blood ran cold as she caught sight of his gun again. 

“What does that mean?” she asked shakily. 

“It means I can take care of it,” he said fixing her with a firm but unreadable stare. 

“I, uh,” she started. “I don’t know if I can do this, Christopher.”

“Do what?” he asked ignoring her use of his name. 

“I don’t know if I can be with you when you- when you do this,” she stammered. “When you’re in a gang. Heck, you  _ run  _ a gang.”

“I ain’t gon let anything happen to you, baby girl, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said earnestly. “I’d kill anybody before they put a finger on you.”

She could see in his eyes that he was being honest and killing someone for her would be as easy as taking out the trash for him. And that was the problem. 

“What about when the cops come to take you away because you ‘took care’ of someone for me,” she asked quietly. 

He scoffed at that. “The feds couldn’t catch me with directions, baby.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, her lips quivering with the one thing she couldn’t say to him;  _ I’m afraid of you.  _

“Listen, baby,” he said stepping closer to her and cradling her face gently. “I’d never hurt you and I’d kill anybody before they hurt you. I might punish you sometimes but all I wanna do is take care of you.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he said firmly. “I told you that I can’t live without you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Tell me that you never wanna see me again and I’ll put a bullet in my head right now.”

“No, no, no,” she said quickly eyes welling with tears. 

“You need me, right? RIght, baby?” he whispered, face close to hers and she nodded earnestly her heart aching at the mere thought of him hurting himself. 

“And you want me to take care of you, right?” he pressed on and she nodded. She nodded because she loved how she didn’t have to think about anything because he would take care of it. 

“And you love me, right?” he said lowly, eyes almost closed and she could feel his breath fanning across her face. She nodded again jerkily. She did. “You need me.”

“Say it,” he insisted and she opened her mouth to answer but her mouth had suddenly gone dry. 

“Say it,” he pressed, almost pleading, his voice choked with restrained tears. “I need you to say it. I can’t keep on living if you don’t love me. I can’t.”

“No, no, daddy, I love you,” she sobbed clutching at his shirt. “I love you  _ so  _ much.”

He crushed his lips to hers and she sighed against his lips, tasting her own tears as his lips moved against hers, his arms tight around her. 

And her arms tight around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A holiday present from me to you. Happy Holidays to you all <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um, smut? Yeah, smut. A little i think

That night, he finally took the plug out and then he took her in his usual rough fashion. His almost bruising thrusts contrasted by the gentle kisses he placed on her neck and shoulders, a constant litany of praise and possessive words flowing from his lips. 

He wrung every last bit of pleasure from, reminding her thoroughly that she was his and nothing would change that. 

But lying there, nestled against him with her head on his steadily rising and falling chest, she couldn’t ignore the pit in her stomach.

How the hell was she supposed to just ignore the fact that he was in a gang? How was she supposed to live with the fact that he kills people? Oddly enough, the money laundering didn't bother her too much. It was how naturally cruelty came to him that bothered her. The way he spoke to Beth, the way he said he'd "take care" of Boomer…

But he was never like that with her. He never hurt her or spoke to her like that.

_ Except for that one time,  _ a snide voice in her head reminded.

Well, he apologized. He'd been nothing but good to her since. 

_ And controlling.  _

Only because he cared about her. Controlling was a strong word. 

_ He's the only person you ever see anymore.  _

He's the only person she needed! 

_ Is that what you think or what he's told you to think?  _

It was true!

Right?

All she needed to do was make more time for Beth, Annie, and Ruby. There weren't any problems with their relationship.

_ You think he'll let you see Ismael,  _ the snide voice piped up again.

Christopher knew that she loved him and she did so he wouldn't have a problem with it. Besides, he couldn't expect her to just sit around waiting for him. She was still a person that existed independently of him. 

He knew that.

He had to know that.

  
  


**

The days passed as they usually did, her either staying at home or going shopping when necessary, all the while making sure to eat and Christopher would go out and...do whatever he did during the day. 

It was one such ordinary day, that she was packing the last of her groceries, leaving some out to get started on dinner when she heard the front door open, a bemused Christopher stepping into the kitchen.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her gently and she felt him smile against her lips.

"Hey, baby," he said lowly.

"Hi," she said a little breathless. "You're home early. And in an uncharacteristically good mood."

"I'm always in a good mood when I see you," he chuckled, pulling away and heading to the fridge. "Hey, I was thinking, you should move in with me."

She froze at that. "What?"

"Yeah," he said casually, grabbing water. "We pretty much already live together but you won't need to pay rent no more."

"Um," she started unsurely. It'd only been a few months.

"Besides," he said turning back to her with a smirk. "I wanna see this pretty face every single day."

"Uh, can I think about it?" she asked laughing nervously.

"What's there to think about?" He scoffed, arms stretching out. "I love you, I wanna take care of you, and I want you where I am. Simple as that."

"We've only been together for a few months and you want me to move in with you?" She asked incredulously. "How do you know you won't wanna break up a couple of months from now? How do you know you won't get tired of me?"

He sighed and put his water down and moved to stand in front of her. "You're mine. Okay? I don't let go of what's mine."

"I don't know…"

"You don't need to know anything to move in with me," he said smiling slyly. "No qualifications needed."

"Christopher," she said admonishingly. 

He didn't respond, instead looking around as if searching for the person she was talking to. "I'm sorry, who?" 

She sighed long-sufferingly.

He looked at her expectantly.

"Papi," she said finally and his breath hitched.

"That's a new one," he breathed, pupils dilating. 

"Don't get too excited, we're having a serious, grown-up conversation," she teased. 

"Fine," he huffed.

"Papi," she sighed running a hand through her braids. " I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes," he pressed, slinging his arms around her waist and she put her hands on his shoulders. "Say yes. I know you want to."

She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came and he started peppering kisses on her face making her giggle. 

"Stop," she said breathlessly in between laughter.

"Not till you say yes," he chuckled against her neck. 

She sighed and was silent for a moment and he looked at her expectantly, big brown eyes shining. 

"Yes," she whispered and he hugged her tightly laughing triumphantly. 

"I knew you'd say yes," he said smugly.

"God, what's Beth gonna say," she said mostly to herself.

"Beth can't say shit while she's washing my money at Costco," he laughed snidely. 

"She's doing what?!"

"Wasn't even my idea," he laughed heartily. 

"Why the hell would she do something like that?" She breathed.

"Wanna know what I think?"

"Go on."

"I think," Christopher started. "Beth likes doing this shit."

"What?!" She asked incredulously. 

"I've always wanted to be a mentor," he mused.

"This is crazy!" She hissed. "You could both go to jail!"

" _ She _ might," he chuckled. 

"I have to talk to her," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. 

"Go ahead," he shrugged. "I don't think that'll do much good but you can try. While you tryna appeal to Beth's morals or some shit, you better start packing. I'll have some guys start moving your things in a couple of days."

"Why do you even keep her on?" She asked. "Beth, Annie, Ruby, they have  _ zero  _ experience. Liabilities."

"To themselves, yeah," he shrugged, sprawling on a stool by the island. "Ain't shit tying that monopoly money to me or my boys."

"Why...employ them then?" She asked in confusion. 

"I get more money," he said like it was obvious.

"You can't hire somebody else?" She pled.

"I'm not forcing Beth to do shit," he bit out, growing impatient. "Stop askin' me all these fuckin' questions!"

She frowned and flinched slightly at his tone, her arms instinctively wrapping around herself.

"Come on, baby," he cooed, leaning forward and grabbing her arm to pull her closer. "I'm just not used to being questioned. Don't be sad."

She let him hold her but she was still afraid to speak in case she annoyed him again. She settled for hiding her face in his neck.

"Come on. Let me see you," he whispered, rubbing her back. 

She pulled back to look at him and he brushed a thumb across her cheek.

"I shouldn't talk like that, huh," he mused almost to himself. "My sweet, little girl is too sensitive."

"No, I'm not," she pouted. 

"It just means that you're sweet, baby," he chuckled. "My sweet girl."

"No, it means that you're mean," she mumbled looking away.

"Instead of standing there and sassin' me, you could be packing right now."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered walking past him, the comment earning her a firm smack on the bum which made her yelp and glare at him.

"Got anything else to say?" He asked, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

She sighed and walked away grumbling about annoying boyfriends, her mutterings drowned out by his low chuckle. 

She almost smiled

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked that and feel free to let me know what you think! Hope y'all are having a good holiday!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm never pre-writing ever again because I never remember what's in these :/  
Enjoy, please :)

She sat across from Beth on a stool in Beth's kitchen, Beth leaning forward and her eye was drawn to the delicate but elegant necklace adorning Beth's neck. She felt the eyes of Annie and Ruby on her right side, their confusion palpable. The kitchen was quiet.

They were meant to be watching The Bachelor.

"We went over to your house," Beth started, lips pursed in a severe, red line. "Found the place empty."

"I moved," she said with a shaky smile. "But you know that already. Duh." 

"And we weren't informed of this because…" Annie asked rolling her eyes upward.

"I figured you guys were too busy to bother with something like that," she shrugged.

"Where'd you move?" Beth asked. 

"Apartment in the city," she said nodding. "Cheaper."

Beth hummed and nodded, her mouth quirking in a way that told her that Beth knew something was off. 

"Funny how many secrets you have these days," Beth remarked.

"I don't-"

"Remember how," Beth said with a humourless laugh. "At Kenny's birthday party, you called the violent gangster who's been terrorising us for months 'babe'?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Ruby asked awkwardly. 

"Yeah, what?" Annie chimed in.

"Go on," Beth challenged. "Tell 'em."

"Fine," she conceded voice hard, her eyes 'ever leaving Beth's. "I'm the  _ single  _ reason you are all still alive."

"Okay, wait, no," Beth started indignantly, holding up a hand.

"You think your little speech was ever going to make him hesitate?" She asked Beth incredulously. 

"Now, I'm not exactly thrilled at his choice of career," she sighed. "But he's not as bad as you think." 

"We are talking about Rio, right?" Annie asked sceptically.

"Rio?" She asked before she could stop herself.

"You don't even know his name!" Beth exclaimed.

"I do!" She retorted. "I also know that it's not Rio."

Beth scoffed and turned away, Annie and Ruby glancing between the two of them uncomfortably.

"He's not a bad guy," she said almost pleading. "He, he takes care of me and he makes sure that I eat, and, and, he makes sure I take my meds and he listens to me and he  _ loves  _ me-"

"How do you know?" Beth demanded. "How do you know anything he says is true?"

"He doesn't have any reason to lie," she shrugged, eyes tearing up. 

"No, I don't," a low voice intoned.

Christopher stepped slowly into the kitchen, his gait predatorial. 

"I 'ont appreciate what you're suggesting, Elizabeth," he said lowly.

"What are you doing in my house?!" Beth asked shrilly.

"What is that?" He said stepping quickly towards Beth, a hand firm on the back of her neck, his golden gun pressed against her necklace. "Is that emerald cut? How much of my money did that set you back?"

Beth looked at him wide-eyed her expression thunderous but the fear unmistakable in her eyes.

"This isn't your money," Beth said lowly.

"Oh, see but it is," he drawled.

"What are you doing?!" She hissed. "I thought we were passed this!"

"Me too but you bitches just keep stealing from me," Christopher snarled.

"You bitches thought you could sneak the fake cash with the real and I ain't gonna notice?" He asked indignantly.

"What?! No," Annie and Beth said in unison.

"We have a system," Beth said firmly.

"Me too," Christopher said wryly and it was then that she noticed that he was flanked by two large, heavily tattooed men. 

"If there was fake cash with the real, then we would notice," Beth continued shaking her head.

"Me too!" Christopher said, a cruel smirk marring his features. "And you tried to rip me off a  _ hundred g's?"  _

"We would never do that!" Annie said imploringly.

"Maybe it was one of the other women!" Ruby exclaimed.

The room suddenly fell silent and she suddenly felt like a spectator of a surreal stage production. When did they become these people?

"Maybe one of them didn't wash the money," Ruby continued.

"What women?" He asked lowly and she knew that he was mad.

"We" Beth started reluctantly. "We couldn't wash the money fast enough so had to outsource."

"You shared my business with other people?" He asked and she could hear the dangerous undercurrent to his voice.

"I'm sure none of these women knows anything," she said moving to stand in front of him.

"Did you know about this?" He asked and he somehow sounded even angrier. 

"What? Of course not!" She said shaking her head. 

"Then stay out of this," he said firmly.

She was about to back down but she caught sight of the golden glint of his gun.

"They're my friends! Why are you being like this?" She said pleadingly. "Did you come here to kill them?" She asked shakily 

"Leave it alone," he said warningly.

"How can I?" She asked shrilly.

"Now is not the fuckin' time," he said lowly.

"No! Tell me!" She said voice raising. "Were you gonna-"

But she cut off when she felt the knuckles of his right hand connect with the soft flesh of her cheek and she felt blood pool in her mouth where her teeth cut into the inside of her cheek. The only sound she could hear was the ringing in her ears and the startled gasps from Beth, Annie, and Ruby. She found herself on Beth's hardwood floors her hand cradling her cheek.

He crouched down next to her, his anger still palpable. "I said that now isn't the fuckin' time for you to be questioning me."

"I'm gonna need a name," Christopher said to Beth standing up again.

She didn't stop to hear the rest of the conversation, all she knew was that she needed to get out of there. She got to her feet unsteadily and stumbling towards the counter she grabbed her purse and keys ran as best as she could to the door.

"Hey, what the- where the fuck are you goin'?" Christopher asked frustratedly.

"Stay away from me" she gasped not caring if he even heard.

She heard him say one last thing but she was out the door and stumbling down the driveway and she could hear him right behind her.

Tears streaming down her face, she got in her car and locked the doors. She could see him leaning down and saying something but she didn't pause to listen, instead focusing on getting her hands to stop shaking and get the keys in the ignition.

Once she got them in, she looked at him and saw his thunderous expression. His brow was furrowed in anger and his lips pursed, a hand braced on the roof of her car.

"Open this door," he said voice muffled. 

She could only look at him not recognizing the man she was seeing before her. 

"Open the fucking door!" He yelled slamming the window and she gasped.

Shaken out of her shock she turned on the car and he slammed his fist against the window again. She just floored it and drove away from him, his form growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. The last thing she saw was him give a shout and rub the back of his head.

**

She wasn't sure where she was going. She drove for a while before she realised that she was going back to their apartment. His apartment. 

She obviously couldn't go back there. So where could she go?

She couldn't stay with Annie, Ruby, or Beth because he'd just find her again and she didn't want to see him. Not yet.

Maybe never again.

She drove in circles for a while before she had an idea.

_ Ismael.  _

She pulled over at a drive-thru and sent off a text to Ismael.

_ Me: Hey I know it's kinda late _

_ Me: I'm sorry _

_ Me: I just _

_ Me: Can I stay with you for a little bit? _

_ Me: I don't know where else to go  _

_ Me: I'm sorry never mind. I don't want to be an inconvenience _

_ Ismael:  _ ** _Location _ **

_ Ismael: You can always come to me _

_ Ismael: do you need me to come get you? _

_ Me: no I'm in my car. On my way _

_ Me: thank you _

_ Ismael: always _

As she drove to Ismael, for the first time since she left Beth's house she felt something other than the throbbing in her cheek.

Hope.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! Gonna put out a few chapters at once and then disappear again lol. Let me know what you think :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot, plot, plot, plot

Ismael handed her a cup of her favourite green tea before sitting down next to her on his couch and pressing a tea towel with ice to her cheek, making her sigh and wince at the contact.

He pressed gently around her cheek, his brow furrowed in worry, and his full lips downturned in a frown. 

He finally stopped his ministrations and hung his head. She took a tentative sip of her tea and braced herself.

"He did this, didn't he?" Ismael sighed.

"What? No, I-"

"Don't," he whispered, shaking his head slowly and looking pained. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" She sighed.

"Lie and try and protect him," Ismael groaned. 

"Yeah, yeah he did do this," she admitted finally. "But only because I was badgering him when he was already in a bad mood."

"It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do!" Ismael said imploringly. "There's never any reason to put your hands on someone you love."

She kept her eyes downcast, bracing herself for the inevitable 'I told you so'.

"I'm sorry," Ismael rasped.

"What?" She asked puzzled. "Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry that this happened to you," he said quietly.

"It's not your fault," she said gently placing a hand on his. "You didn't, you didn't hit me."

"You can't go back to him," Ismael said quietly. 

"I moved in with him," she said flatly. "He has all my stuff. I'm just lucky that I have my phone and my cards." 

"We can go get your things as soon as you're ready," Ismael said reassuringly. "In the meantime, stay as long as you like."

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother," she said worriedly.

"I'm sure," Ismael smiled. "I'm happy to see you."

"Wish it was under better circumstances," she said wryly.

He huffed in amusement. "Oh, yeah definitely."

They were quiet for a bit soaking up the little levity that they had managed to muster. Before Ismael, put his hands on knees with a soft thud.

"I don't know about you but I'd kill for some ridiculously unhealthy food right now," he said with a lopsided smile.

"Oh, God, yes," she groaned rubbing her head. She was actually really hungry. 

It was only later, her mouth full of pizza that she felt a lump in her throat, and she swallowed hoping it would go away. But it was still there, and with the next mouthful of pizza came big, fat, tears rolling down her face. She swallowed again and suddenly the sob that was trapped in her throat bubbled out.

She felt Islaely gently manoeuvre her into his arms and face buried into his chest, she wept.

She wept.

**

She woke up the next day, in Ismael's guest bedroom, momentarily disoriented by her unfamiliar surroundings. She sighed and relaxed back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling, the emotional exhaustion of the previous day weighing down on her. 

She tentatively pressed her cheek and she winced at the tenderness, not as bad as the day before but undeniably noticeable. She found herself pressing it repeatedly, harder each time as if on the umpteenth time then she would find that she had imagined the pain. 

As if it was never there. 

Like he never hurt her. 

Because he promised. And she believed him. That was supposed to be enough. 

She splayed a hand on the empty space beside her and she found herself missing Christopher. She always got cold in the middle of the night and he was always happy to let her cuddle up to him. And right then she felt frozen, chilled straight to the bone. 

She wasn’t supposed to miss him. You don’t miss people that do stuff like that. And yet there she was. 

She grabbed her phone from the bedside and decided to check her phone in an attempt to distract herself but the barrage of texts that she was facing did the exact opposite of distracting her. Great.

_ Beth: Where are you?? Are you okay??  _

_ Beth: Tell me you didn’t leave with him _

_ [5 missed calls from Beth] _

_ Beth: Please call me asap  _

_ Annie: Dude where the fuck are you??? If he did anything else to you, I’m taking his balls  _

_ Annie; Call us!! _

_ Ruby; Honey, we’re worried. Please call us.  _

_ Ruby: We just need to know you’re safe  _

She sighed and sent off a few quick texts to all of them telling them that she was safe, that she wasn’t with Christopher and that she was at a friend’s house. She figured it was better if they didn’t know where exactly so that they could avoid lying to Christopher. 

Christopher. 

She felt all the energy leave her when she saw how many texts he left her. 

_ Chris: Where the fuck are you? _

_ Chris: You can’t just leave and not tell nobody where you going _

_ Chris: What is this? The silent treatment? _

_ Chris: You’re being real immature you know _

_ Chris: Call me _

_ Chris: Let me at least know you’re okay _

_ Chris: Can we please talk about this? _

_ Chris: You just caught me at a bad moment  _

_ Chris: Come on, just talk to me  _

_ Chris: Please come home. We can get past this  _

_ Chris: I love you _

How could they get past this? How could he call her immature for being upset? Was there even anything to talk about?

The swirl of questions in her mind was interrupted by a knock at the door and she sighed for what felt like the billionth time and told Ismael to come in. 

“Hey. How are you feelin’?” he asked with a smile, his head poking comically into the room.

“Like my boyfriend backhanded me across the face like a pimp?” she tried with a weak smile. 

Ismael smiled slightly but he seemed to think better of it, his smile quickly morphed into something resembled a wince. 

“Okay, that was in poor taste,” she conceded. 

“You can’t deflect this one with humour even though I know you want to,” he chuckled.

“It’s not like I always-” she started but she saw his sceptical expression and stopped. “Okay, maybe I do.”

He laughed at that and she smiled for what felt like the first time in years. 

“Come on, let’s get you some food,” he chuckled. “You look like you need it.”

Later on, she found herself poking at her eggs noncommittally with a fork, her mind still on the messages that Christopher sent. She should at least give him a chance, right?

“He, uh, he texted me,” she said keeping her eyes on her plate. 

She could almost feel Ismael freeze in his seat before she heard him set his fork down. He exhaled slightly and she knew that he was dreading what she was going to say. 

“Okay,” he said slowly. “And what did he say? Sorry, I hope. Not that it would make a difference.”

“He-”

He hadn’t even said that he was sorry. 

“He didn’t say sorry,” she conceded. “But he does want to, uh, to talk.”

“Talk,” Ismael parroted sounding unimpressed. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “A chance to parse through things.”

“A chance for him to manipulate you into staying with his bitchass,” Ismael said angrily before sighing. “I can’t tell what to do but I wouldn’t advise talking to him. Not alone.”

“He won’t be reasonable if you’re there,” she sighed rubbing her temples. 

“Why not?” Ismael asked in confusion. 

“He feels...threatened by you. He thinks you’ll steal me away at the first chance you get,” she explained. “He doesn’t even know I’m here. He’d go ballistic.”

“You’re not a thing to be taken away,” Ismael said incredulously. “You can make your own choices. Jesus, the fuck is wrong with this guy?”

“He’s had a tough life,” she said defensively. 

“That explains a lot but excuses next to nothing,” Ismael said imploringly.

“I know, I know,” she said shaking her head. 

They were both quiet for a bit and she wished that it would all just stop. That none of this was happening and that she didn’t have to make all these fucking choices. She wanted to slam her hand against the table and scream and stamp her feet but what good would that do? 

“What are you gonna do?” Ismael sighed softly. 

“I’m gonna talk to the fucker,” she muttered. “If I just talk to him then we can sort this whole thing out.”

“Whatever you decide, I respect it. The door is always open if you need to come back and my phone is always on for you,” Ismael said sincerely and she looked into his blue-green eyes and saw his honesty. She also saw worry and fear. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

“You don’t need to thank me for being a good friend,” he huffed in amusement. 

But she had to. 

Because she had a gut feeling that she was going to disappoint him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think :b


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erm, I guess you'll have to read and find out ;)

She sat across from Christopher, back ramrod straight and hands folded in her lap. 

He was leaning forward in his seat, his dark eyebrows pulled together in a frown and his own hands clasped tight as he pursed his lips. She could feel his gaze boring into her but she kept her eyes on her hands. 

She needed to file her nails. 

She heard him fidget in his seat, his knee bouncing the way it always did when he was feeling restless. Suddenly, she heard him get up and she flinched when he sat down next to her on the couch and he looked pained.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. 

“Do what?” she asked still not meeting his gaze.

“Act like you’re  _ afraid _ of me,” he said imploringly. 

“What if,” she choked out before clearing her throat. “What if I am?”

“You don’t need to be, baby,” he said softly, grasping one of her hands gently. “I promise.”

She finally looked at him and she saw the earnestness in his eyes, she saw the way his eyes were red-rimmed and tired. She had missed the feel of his hands on her.

“You keep making promises that you can’t keep,” she said, voice tired. 

“You just caught me at a bad time,” he pressed. “I was just so angry because Beth is always trying me and then you-”

“So it’s my fault?” she asked flatly looking away again. 

“No,  _ no, _ ” he said emphatically. “I’m just tryna say-”

“You backhanded me,” she said flatly. 

He was quiet at that and he sighed but she could still feel his gaze on her but he was quiet. 

“You hurt me  _ again _ ,” she said in a broken voice. “You hurt me after you said you never would.”

“I know,  _ I know,  _ trust me,” he said earnestly, leaning forward and grasping her hand tightly. “You think it didn’t kill me every second you were gone knowin’ I did that to you? You think I didn’t hate myself sleepin’ in that bed alone?”

She looked at him then and she remembered how alone and miserable she felt alone in an unfamiliar bed. To hear him say the same...maybe he was right. She was his and she needed him. 

“I’m so sorry that happened,” he said earnestly. “I’ll never forgive myself for what happened. But I love you and I just want you to come  _ home. _ ”

She opened her mouth to respond but found her tongue stiff and uncooperative, her mouth dry as sandpaper. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t miss me,” he challenged desperately. “Tell me.”

Her mouth remained uncooperative because if she said that, then she would be lying, and lying through her teeth at that. And he would know. He would know because it felt like he knew her better than she even knew herself.

“You can’t,” he said sounding relieved. “You love me, right? Right, baby?”

She wanted to tell him that she did. Because she did love him. She loved him so much that it honestly felt like it hurt. Shit. It  _ did  _ hurt. Her cheek ached with a slight phantom pain and her fingers ghosted over the area. 

“Don’t think about that, baby,” he whispered in her ear, his lips ghosting over her cheek. “Just think about me, just me.”

She shivered slightly at his proximity and leaned forward into his space, his lips firm but gentle on her cheek, trailing down her jaw and she sighed in spite of herself. She’d missed him so much, her skin singing at his touch. 

"Say you love me," he muttered into her neck, a hand firm on her thigh and sliding steadily upwards. "Say you won't leave me."

She wanted to. She wanted to. But she shouldn't want that. She shouldn't have been responding to his touch the way she was.

"Who else could touch you like this?" He husked before planting soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck and she let out a moan she had been holding, and her head falling back. 

"Wait," she panted as the hand on her thigh reached her panties. "Wait, I don't think-"

"You don't need to think," Christopher said softly. "Let daddy do the thinking."

"But we need to talk," she said breathlessly.

His hand was then in between her legs, slipping deftly into her panties, and his fingers expertly tracing her slick folds.

"This right here tells me all I need to know, baby girl," he crooned. "So wet for me. I always make you feel good, right?"

She leaned heavily against him, her head on his shoulder as she mewled helplessly into his neck, her pussy doubtlessly drenching his fingers.

"Let me make it all up to you, baby," he husked, slipping two fingers into her tight, wet heat, his thumb firm on her clit. "Let me make you feel good."

He scissored his fingers slowly and her eyes rolled back slightly at the stretch, her mouth falling open in a moan. He crooked his fingers inside her, rubbing insistently at her walls and she shivered against him. Her nipples were hard and pebbled. 

He suddenly hoisted her into his lap, his fingers still inside her and his hardness pressing into her backside. He pulled the front of her dress down and her breasts swung out freely, the cool air of the room making her nipples harden further. 

He continued his assault on her walls, his fingers pressing into her g-spot and making her arch her back and grind into his erection. She was so close.

*Daddy, I'm gonna cum,* she whined almost in distress.

His fingers somehow sped up in their ministrations, his thumb flicking her clit quickly.

"Cum on daddy's fingers, little girl," he husked smirking up at her. 

And that was all she needed, the steady stream on his fingers turning into a gush. Each flutter of her walls resulting in another squirt on his hand accompanied by obscene squelches. She trembled in his lap, her mouth open in a silent scream punctuated by half gasps.

"Such a slutty little girl," he said almost in awe. "Squirting all over daddy's hand like a whore."

His fingers were still inside her, thrusting lazily to prolong her orgasm, and she shivered again at his words. He knew full well she liked it when he got like that. 

"Why don't you try and squirt on my dick, slut?" He asked rhetorically and she clenched around his fingers. 

"Papi, fuck my slutty pussy, please," she begged fully giving in to him.

"You want my dick?" He asked casually, scissoring his fingers again and she nodded again as she dripped onto his fingers again.

"Stay with me," he said. "Come home and I'll tie you to the bed and dump my load in you for three days straight. I'll keep that whore cunt full for days."

With the desperation between her legs, with the way she had ached for him, she found herself agreeing.

"Is that a yes?" He prompted, stilling his fingers.

"Yes, daddy!" She groaned in frustration. "Please, I feel so empty. Fill me up, please, please. I missed you so much, daddy, my pussy needs to be stuffed."

"You're a desperate little slut," he mused."Say it."

"I'm a desperate little slut," she mewled.

"Show me how much you want my cock," he husked rubbing his dick through his pants.

She quickly got off his lap, getting on her hands and knees on the couch, her hands reaching behind her to grasp her asscheeks and pull them apart to give him a view of her dripping wet cunt.

"Shit,* he swore and in a flash, he was behind her grabbing her hips in a bruising grip, and the blunt hot head of.his cock was nudging at her entrance. 

Before she could push back against it, he thrust into her roughly, his hips slapping against her ass, th sound mingling with her guttural moans.

He lay into her with a punishing pace, his cock sliding easily in and out of her sopping channel.

"Fuck me, daddy, fuck me, daddy, fuck me," she chanted deliriously. "My pussy feels so good."

He grabbed her neck and wrenched her back slightly making her back arch as he pistoned into her. The head of his cock nudging against her g-spot, sending tremors through her walls.

"Look at you," he mused. "You can't even go a few days without some dick. Slutty, slutty, girl."

She clenched on his cock at that, seemingly feeling each vein and the hardness thickness, moulding perfectly to her cunt. 

"Drunk on my dick," he snarled into her ear. "Begging to get fucked. My little cockslut."

"Oh,  _ fuck,"  _ she moaned. "I love your cock. I love you. I want you to stuff me full all the time."

"Yeah?" He panted still fucking her relentlessly.

"Yes, Papi," she keened.

"Papi is gone take real good care of you," he grunted. "My little girl. Mine. I'm not letting you go again."

His hand tightened on the sides of her neck and she gasped as her head went light and the pressure between her legs increased. She always got so close so fast when he choked her.

"Mine, mine, mine," he mumbled into her shoulder. "I'm never lettin' you go."

"Daddy, I'm so close," she gasped.

"Say that you're mine and I'll let you cum," he panted, thrusts becoming erratic. "Say you'll never leave me."

She could barely say anything, her mind incapable of stringing together a coherent sentence, let alone making any promises.

"Say it," he snarled, his hand now pressing down on her windpipe. "Say it or I'm cummin' in this pussy and leavin' you hanging for a week."

"I'm, I'm," she wheezed, the words punched out with his thrusts. "I'm yours, Papi. I'll never leave you."

"That's fuckin' right," he grunted, using his other hand to rub at her clit roughly. "You're mine. You're mine until I fuckin' say otherwise. Cum, little girl. Cream all on this dick, slut."

And with that, her walls clamped around him tightly, rhythmically pulsing and milking his cock until his hips stuttered and he thrust into her and came. His cum filling her to the brim and warming her pussy with his spend. He thrust lazily into her as he grew soft, pushing his cum further into her and she shivered.

She collapsed on the couch, exhausted and he gently pulled out, making her whimper at the loss.

"I know just what you need," he said and she heard the mischief in his voice.

He settled picked her up and took her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed before reaching into his nightstand for something. 

She felt something slightly cold and hard run along her slit collecting the cum that was trickling out of her before it was pushed into her swollen pussy, making her moan. The plug.

"You like that, huh?" He asked, desire lacing his voice again. "You think you can cum for me again?"

She shook her head tiredly, eyes closed in exhaustion as sleep threatened to take her. She felt completely wrung out.

“Alright, I’m done with you,” he conceded. “For now.”

She just nodded absently, near passed out and she felt the bed dip under his weight before he lay down next to her and pulled her close to his chest. The emptiness, the ache, the void in her chest was finally gone. She wasn’t cold anymore. Just as sleep claimed her, she felt his chest rumble as he spoke. 

“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered. “You can try and leave but I’m always gonna bring you back. You need me.”

Maybe she did need him. She definitely loved him. 

All she knew is that she was finally warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really difficult to write and it just would not flow out of my brain but here it is! I hope you liked it and please let me know what you think! Or just tell me about your day lol. Happy New Year everyone!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot with some time-lapses.

He was around a lot after that and she wondered if he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.

She wouldn't of course. She wasn't sure if she even could. Whether that was because of him or because of her, she didn't know.

It turned out the FBI was breathing down his neck so he was laying low until the dust settled. Beth apparently wasn't taking that news very well. 

Turned out that the woman who was turning the fake cash back in, Mary Pat Warner, was blackmailing Beth. Christopher wanted to "handle" it but of course, Beth being Beth, she wouldn't let him.

She didn't know how she felt about that.

Christopher didn't want her spending time with Beth anymore.

"You're my sweet girl, right?" He had asked and she nodded obediently. "That's why I don't you messing with those women no more. You don't need to get caught up in that mess." 

Beth called her every day and begged her to leave him and she didn't know what to tell Beth every single time.

He hadn't hit her again, he hadn't even so much as raised his voice at her. He doted on her at every opportunity, showering her with gifts that she begged him not to get but he insisted on getting anyway. To show how much he loved and appreciated her. How could she possibly leave him?

Since he was around more often, he wanted to be around her more often. So he asked her to quit her job. 

"What about when you're back in business? I can't just sit at home all day doing nothing," she had laughed nervously. 

"You can do anything you want," he'd laughed. "You just don't need to work. I got more than enough money to take care of you."

"I don't know…"

"You know what would take up some time?" He'd asked holding her hands tenderly. 

"What?" She'd asked sceptically.

"A baby."

Well.

"Excuse me?" She'd asked in shock.

"Come on," he'd implored. "Let's have a baby."

"Why?" She'd asked incredulously.

"Cause I wanna have a family with you. A life," he'd said emphatically.

"Well, we already are a family. We already have a life," she'd tried, smiling shakily. 

"But what could bring us closer together than something that's half you and half me?" He'd asked eyes glittering with excitement. "I know I've given you a lot of things but that would be the greatest gift you could give me."

"I…I'll think about it," she'd promised and his jaw clenched but he smiled tightly and nodded. 

She got her birth control shot at the same time she always did that month. 

She couldn't shake the bizarreness of him asking her that. A  _ child _ ? The image of a pacifier next to his golden pistol amused and horrified her in equal measure.

But then she thought about the baby. A baby with her eyes and his nose. A baby with her curls, hair as dark as his. Half him, half her.

The image was wiped from her mind when he didn't come home that evening. When she saw him being led away in handcuffs by the cops. 

She was cold. 

She sat there, frozen, for what might have been five minutes or five hours before she got into her car and drove straight to Beth's house.

In Beth's arms, she didn't feel as cold.

Until Beth told her that they'd robbed the grocery store again. And left evidence implicating Christopher. Implicating "Rio".

She shouldn't have been relieved when she overhead Agent Turner from the FBI telling Beth that the gang made bail. 

She kept wondering why she didn't go home after that. Back to Christopher. 

If she had then Beth and she wouldn't have found Dean slumped over, tied up, and bloodied, one of his eyes swollen shut. Christopher pulled his head back roughly and gave Beth an ultimatum. If Beth wanted to be him then she had better kill him.

"Please don't do this," she'd whispered.

"Stay out of this, please," he'd said quietly.

"Beth was only looking out for me," she pled in return.

"I'm the only one that gets to do that, so the point still stands," he'd bit out before turning back to Beth. "If you wanna be the king, you gotta kill the king. Shit's medieval, Beth."

He slid the gun across the table to Beth and Beth didn't hesitate to pick it up, the gold glinting slyly in the dim light of the room, and Beth's hands trembling. 

"Shoot him, Beth," Dean rasped.

"Shut up," Beth said shakily, choking on a sob.

"Shoot him!" Dean shouted.

"Shut up!"

But in the end, Beth couldn't do it, she couldn't shoot him. 

And for that, Christopher, Rio, calmly took the gun from Beth.

"You did your best," he'd reassured Beth.

And he shot Dean square in the chest, sparing the barest of glances at his target.

As Christopher dragged her out of the house, all she could hear was Beth's sobbing. 

Christopher's hand tightened around her arm. 

**

"What part of 'I don't want you around Beth’ didn't you fuckin' get?" He asked lowly, pacing in front of where she sat on the bed. The image of Dean jerking before slumping forward burned into her retinas. The sound of the gunshot still loud in her ears.

"I thought you were going to  _ jail _ . I couldn't sit through that on my own," she said flatly.

"How many times have I told you that the feds can't hold me?" he asked in exasperation.

"They couldn't even make an arrest before," she said shrilly. "Now they're perp walking you on the news! They're getting closer and closer." 

"It's only because of that grocery store motherfucker," he sighed. "He's talking to the feds."

"Boomer? God, the man's like herpes," she groaned. 

"I'm serious," he said sitting down next to her and fixing her with a firm stare, lips pursed. "I don't want you around Beth. The cops are sniffing around her and I don't want her to take you down with her."

"They're sniffing around you too." She pointed out. "You shot Dean."

"I know how to keep my nose clean," he shrugged. "Beth's husband was just a casualty in Beth's little coup."

"Coup?"

"You're a smart girl," he said wryly. "Beth didn't do this for you."

"Why else would she do something like this then?" She asked incredulously. 

"Easy, she likes the excitement," he drawled. "She likes feeling like a mommy mob boss. She wants to be me."

"Beth?" She asked, doubt lacing her voice. 

"You'll see," he smirked. "She only judges me because she sees herself in me."

She frowned at that, failing to reconcile his perception of Beth, with the Beth that she knew. The Beth that would run her daughter's back after a nightmare. The Beth that cut chicken fingers into stars. That Beth. 

"You don't believe me," he scoffed, getting up and taking off his shirt. 'Just stay away from Beth. I gotta do some damage control."

"Get rid of Dean's body?" She asked hollowly.

"He's not dead," Christopher scoffed, unbuckling his belt. "I know where I shot him. He's hurt bad but he's not dead."

"You still shot him. And what about Beth?"

"Beth won't tell the cops anything," he shrugged, pulling his pants down. 

"And why's that?" She asked, eyes tracking him as he threw his clothes in the hamper. 

"That's a can of worms she won't open 'cause it's her can too," he chuckled.

"You shot her husband," she repeated hollowly. "She's in a hospital waiting room waiting to find out if her husband is dead and I'm here."

He sighed. Not in contrition but in frustration that she was still on that.

"I lost my temper," he admitted. "But she shouldn't have tried to put me away."

"Wouldn't you do the same if you were her?" she asked looking up at him. 

"I'm not her, though," he said voice hard. "She needs to know that I mean business. Her husband is gonna be fine anyway."

She just sighed tiredly. They were going round and round in circles.

"I wanna shower. I smell like jail and cop coffee," he remarked heading for the bathroom.

"Fine," she said in what she hoped was in a neutral tone. 

"Why don't you join me?" he asked in teasing lilt. 

She crossed her arms and scoffed, looking away from him.

"Come on, I almost went to prison," he said sounding hurt. "Welcome me home properly."

She felt guilty at that. She didn't give a single thought to him or what he felt. She still wasn't happy that he hurt Dean but it probably hurt him as much to even do that.

Right?

"Yes, daddy," she said obediently.

His lopsided smile was enough for her.

At that moment it had to be enough.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed that! Let me know what you think! I regret to say that this will get worse before it gets better.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erm, plot.   
Trigger warning for non-consensual sexual contact.

Christopher was suddenly gone a lot.

She didn't know where he went, if he wanted her to know then he'd tell her. And she knew that asking him questions that he didn't want to answer wasn't a good idea. She'd just be provoking him if she tried.

So she found herself at home alone, more often than not. He had somehow persuaded her to stop working but she didn't feel right not doing well so she kept taking commissions online. Christopher wouldn't mind. Hopefully.  Everyone seemed extremely busy doing something but no one cared to let her know what was going on. She knew the FBI was sniffing around but what Beth was doing in light of that was a total mystery. She could only hope that nobody was doing anything stupid.

It was on one such day that she was alone, again, and she heard the front door slowly unlock and tentatively open. The door creaking slightly as the intruder stepped slowly into the apartment, closing the door softly behind themself. That wasn't Christopher.

She tensed and turned around slowly, her hand inconspicuously reaching for the pink handled switchblade Christopher had given her.  She calmly stood up, recalling the defence lessons he'd given her, her other hand speed dialling Christopher.

"Hey, baby girl," he answered immediately.

"There's someone in the house," she said softly. The intruder seemed to be frantically searching for something in the other rooms. 

"Where are you?"

"The study," she replied softly.

"You have your knife?" He asked.

"Yeah," she said shakily. She had never imagined actually using it. 

"Good," she heard his car start in the background, tires screeching shortly after. "I'm on my way."

"I'm scared, Papi," she blurted.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, baby," he said darkly. "I promise."

He hung up and she heard what seemed like the sound of heels on the hardwood floors of the loft. Heels? Who robs a place in heels?

Suddenly the heels sounded like they were approaching the study and her hand tightened around the handle of her knife, eyes fixed on the slowly turning doorknob.

The door slowly creaked open and the breath was punched out of her when her eyes met started powder blue ones. Beth.

"Beth?!" She exclaimed. "Why the fuck are you breaking into my apartment?!"

Beth seemed dumbfounded, her eyes wide and shame dawning on her face before it fully sunk in who was standing in front of her.

"Me?"Beth retorted. 'What are you doing here? Is that a knife? İs it  _ pink _ ?"

"I thought someone was breaking into my apartment! I had to defend myself!" She said her voice going up a few octaves.

" _ Your  _ apartment?" Beth asked, her eyes glinting with anger.

"Yeah, her apartment," a deep voice piped up from behind Beth, making Beth whip around. "Our apartment actually. What do you want, Elizabeth?"

Beth turned to face her again her eyes wide in shock and anger and she stepped back involuntarily. Beth's face softened.

"You don't need to stay here," Beth pled. "Come stay with me. You don't need to stay here."

"What? You think I got her tied up in here or something?" Christopher chuckled humourlessly. "I mean... sometimes I do. But she can leave anytime she wants to."

They both looked at her expectantly and she froze, not knowing what to do. The hard set of their faces told her that there was no correct choice. So she remained where she was. 

"See?" Christopher said, smirking and moving to stand beside her. "Now, I know you didn't come here to start shit with my girl so I'll ask again. What do you want, Elizabeth?"

Beth stared him down again, she was still as a statue, a picture of calm were it not for the shake in her right hand and the twitch if her eye.

"İ want out," Beth said finally, pursing her lips.

"Okay," Chris said simply. "I'll send some  _ packages _ to Agent Turner instead."

Her eyes flicked between the two of them and she wondered what Beth had gotten herself into this time. What packages could Christopher possibly be sending to the FBI? 

"Why are you doing this?" Beth asked, shoulders sagging. "You don't need me."

Christopher just smirked at her, his eyes dancing with dark mirth. 

"Get out of my apartment, Elizabeth," he said simply. 

What could Beth do but comply?

What could she do but stare dumbly at the spot Beth had just vacated? Her tongue tied in knots with questions that she couldn't voice. 

Christopher didn't like questions.

**

Soon after that, Christopher moved them to another upmarket loft in a completely different neighbourhood. He didn't say why and the look in his eyes told her that she still couldn't ask. 

He was more short-tempered than usual and she tried to stay out of his way but that just seemed to make him angrier. His words were harsher and her wrists ached from where he would grab her when she tried to walk away from him.

It didn't help things that he was still on her case about a baby. When he took her in their bed, he would fuck her in an almost animalistic manner, growling about stuffing her full of his cum and getting her pregnant. He'd ask afterwards if she had thought about it and she would inevitably say she was still thinking.

"What the fuck do you have to think about?" He would ask angrily. "I give you fuckin' everything and you can't even do this for me?"

She would cry and start to quietly take her favourite fleece blanket that smelled like him to the guest room but he would grab her arm in a bruising grip making her cry out and sob.

He'd spend the entire night apologising and kissing away her tears. 

And so it went. 

She was going crazy. She hadn't seen another human being that wasn't Christopher in nigh on three weeks since Beth's visit. 

So she decided to meet up with Ismael.

It wasn't anything special. They got some ice cream and fries and he bought her a stuffed Totoro plushie and she got him a Naruto headband that he pretended not to like. It was fun. It was simple. 

She walked back into the apartment, humming the Totoro theme song, and smiling softly. She'd missed Christopher.

Her humming was cut short when she saw Christopher staring blankly at one of the kitchen walls, taking a long drink of his favourite bourbon. He didn't drink alone unless he was upset.

"Where were you?" He asked quietly.

"I went out with a friend," she shrugged.

"A friend."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. Just a friend that I used to work with from time to time," she said hurriedly.

"I didn't say anything," he shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

She shrugged in response, holding her Totoro tightly. 

"What's this friend's name?" He asked.

"His name is, uh," she started licking her suddenly dry lips. "His name's Ismael."

Christopher frowned slightly but nodded almost sagely as he regarded the contents of his glass. The room was quiet save for the swishing of amber liquid in Swarovski crystal. 

He continued nodding before he stood and took a deep breath and hurled the class at the kitchen wall he had been staring at. The crash of glass and splash of liquor intermingling with her scream.

"What I wanna know," he started, his voice stilted. "Is why you seeing other men behind my back?"

"I didn't think you would mind," she said shakily. "He's just a friend."

Christopher's brow pinched and he nodded again before standing and moving quickly towards her, the smell of alcohol thick and heady around him, and his hand firm around her throat.

"Did you fuck him?" He husked slurring slightly. "Did he bend you over and fuck that sweet little pussy?"

"N-no!" She promised but whatever else she was going to say was cut off when he hiked up her dress and shoved a hand down her panties and prodded at her entrance.

"So tight," he hummed in approval. "Not even wet. I guess you're not as much of a slut as I thought."

"Christopher," she whimpered. "Please stop."

He didn't stop. In fact, he did the opposite slid fingers up and down her entrance and in spite of herself, she felt her pussy get wet as he fondled her. 

"Why should I?" He chuckled. "You're getting so wet for me."

"You're drunk," she said pushing at his chest but he didn't budge.

"I can still fuck you into next week," he slurred. "I'm gonna make you put on that nice little white number and hold that stupid fuckin' toy while I fuck you. Take a picture and send it to Ismael."

"Please stop," she pled, her breath coming in short pants. 

He ignored her in favour of thumbing more insistently at her clit, his hand tightening around her throat.

"I said," she rasped, even though her body wanted her to continue. " _ Stop!" _

She pushed him away from her and he looked confused before seething anger settled on his features. 

"You don't wanna fuck?" He asked mockingly. "That's new."

"You're  _ drunk _ ," she said imploringly. 

"What you think you takin' advantage of me? Fuck outta here," he scoffed, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. 

"Where are you going?" She asked in exasperation.

"To see a friend," he said scathingly.

And with a slam of the door, he was gone. 

She tried to console herself with the belief that he was just upset and probably getting drunk somewhere. That was all.

The notion was quickly buried when a few hours later she received a blurry picture from Christopher. It was taken in what looked like a seedy bar bathroom mirror. It was Beth bent over the sink, her dress hiked up, skin flushed, and face twisted in what appeared to be pleasure, Christopher gripping her hip with one strong hand.

_ Don't worry. She's just a friend.  _

The breath that she had been holding was knocked out of her, followed by a sob that started in her chest and tumbled out of her throat. Her ears were ringing.

How could he do this?

He just  _ kept _ hurting her and she kept forgiving him.

For what? For this?

She got up shakily and wiped her tears away roughly before she quickly packed some clothes and toiletries and grabbed her phone and handbag. He could keep the rest for all she cared. The bone-deep cold that she thought she would fell consumed by all-encompassing and fiery rage. 

She sat in her car, her hands clutching the steering wheel as she panted and closed her eyes.

And then something snapped. And she slammed her hands against the steering wheel. She slammed her hands against it over and over until she was sure they were bruised all the while wailing. 

What was this pain? What was this for? Why did he come into her life if all he was going to do was break her? Was he trying to punish her? She slumped over the wheel as her body was wracked with sobs. 

Her crying was cut short when she saw the glitter of Christopher's headlights and she absently thought that he shouldn't have been driving. 

Putting her car into gear, she quickly peeled out of the parking garage of their apartment building and she caught a glimpse of his wide-eyed expression as she passed him.

She didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of unanswered questions... Decisions were made... ;)  
I'd say there's like a chapter or two left. I'm struggling to decide whether or not to give this a happy ending or a more ambiguous, open ending.   
Anyway, I hope you liked that! Let me know what you think <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where do I even start?  
Trigger Warning: discussion of sexual assault

She didn’t want to go back to Ismael but she had no choice. 

She drove aimlessly for a while, mulling over where she could go but all she could think about was where she couldn’t go. She couldn't go to Beth for obvious reasons, and she couldn't go to Annie and Ruby because he'd find her easily. They didn't have room for her anyway.

The way things turned out it seemed like no one had room or time for her. Except for Christopher.

Well, he didn't count anymore, did he?

So she went to Ismael and stood at his door trying to muster the courage and wherewithal to ring the doorbell. She could almost hear what he'd say when he saw her?

_ What did he do this time? Didn't I tell you he wasn't right for you? I told you, I told you, I told you, I told you, I told- _

She shook the thoughts out of her head. Ismael wasn't like that. He was honest but he wasn't mean about it like a lot of the people that she had known. So, emboldened, she pressed her cold fingertip to the button, the shrill ring of it sending a jolt of panic through her.

She waited a few minutes, shifting nervously on the balls of her feet and she absently thought that she should have called beforehand. 

This was a bad idea. 

She shouldn’t have just assumed that it was okay for her to just show up. What if he had company? She didn’t even think about him, all she was thinking about was the fact that she was alone and she was cold and she just needed to be with someone that wasn’t pushing her around. She huffed in frustration at herself and she was about to turn and go back to her car when the door opened to reveal a surprised Ismael, wiping his hands on an apron.

“Hey,” he said, face breaking into a wide grin. “What’s up?”

Her lips parted to say something. She wasn’t even sure what.  _ I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m sorry you have to put up with me.  _

It turned that she said all those things through big, heaving sobs but she was hushed gently as Ismael put an arm around her and herded her into the house. He sat her down on the couch and pulled her close to his chest. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask her any questions. He just let her cry. And cry she did. She felt like every terrible thing that she had ever felt was suddenly draining out of her and she couldn’t stop the torrent. But when she did calm down, she felt lighter almost. She also felt a little embarrassed at such a raw display of vulnerability, so she kept her face buried in his tear-stained shirt. 

“You don’t need to feel ashamed for feeling,” he said gently and she wondered if she was that predictable and she heard him scoff deep in his chest. 

“I know you, man,” he chuckled. “If you could turn off your emotions you would.”

She mumbled unintelligibly into his shirt because he was right but he didn’t need to know that, did he?

He gently pulled her away from his chest and she kept her eyes downcast as he appraised her and she could almost feel the worry radiating from him. He gently wiped her tear-stained face with his hands and she almost cried at the tenderness of the gesture. She couldn’t remember the last time Christopher touched her like that. 

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

She sighed at that, wiping at her face, and shrugging. “He, uh, he cheated on me.”

“What?!”

“I refused to, I refused to sleep with him,” she said shakily. “After I got back from our hangout, I found him drunk. He thought I was cheating on him, he broke some shit...He t-touched me even after I told him to stop. So he fucked my best friend.”

Ismael seemed dumbfounded his mouth slightly agape as he blinked and processed the story. 

“If I’d just- if I’d just,” she started shakily. 

“No, no, this isn’t your fault,” he said imploringly. “He made his choice and that’s on him. You don’t deserve any of this and what he did to you was terrible.”

She just sniffed miserably because he was right. Christopher had betrayed her and violated her. 

“Can I hug you?” Ismael asked and he paused to allow her to answer. 

“Um, yeah, it’s fine,” she said shaking her head and sniffing. “It’s not like he, it’s not like he…”

He might’ve. She was convinced that he might’ve. 

“Still,” Ismael said, eyes sad. “He didn’t respect your choice and your body and I want you to know that it’s okay to say no, especially after he did what he did.”

“And what did he do?” she asked in confusion. Other people, had it a lot worse, right? Wasn’t she over-reacting? 

“Um, well, I won’t say I know how you feel,” he started seriously. “But I know you and I know you’re probably downplaying this.”

“I...yeah, no, I guess I am,” she admitted chuckling sadly. 

“He assaulted you,” Ismael said gently, taking her hand in his. “And that fuckin’ sucks and I’m sorry that happened to you. I’d cut his balls off if it wasn’t for the fact that I don’t wanna go to jail because of that asshole.”

She laughed at that, the feeling almost inappropriate given the subject matter of their conversation but it was nice to feel something other than  _ bad. _

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” she said smiling softly and he smiled and squeezed her hand.

“So,” he said slowly. “What next?”

”What do you mean?” she asked, brown furrowing. 

“What do you want to do next?” he asked, clasping his hands. 

“I, I don’t want to go back,” she said shakily, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “I don’t know much else beyond that.” 

“Okay,” he nodded. “That’s a good place to start and we can figure out the rest later. Right now? It’s time to eat and then it’s time for bed.”

“W-wait,” she said wide-eyed. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay for me to stay here! You don’t need to put me up or anything. I don’t wanna impose.”

“Stop being a goof and let’s eat,” he said not unkindly. “I told you that you always have a place here.”

She felt her eyes well up and she turned away to wipe her eyes. “God, you’re such a softie, it’s making my allergies act up.”

“Sure,” he chuckled. “Come on. I was homesick so I made alcapurrias.”

“Oh my god, it’s been ages since you made those,” she groaned standing up. “Feed me.”

“I thought I was making your allergies act up.”

“I’m more allergic to not being fed.”

And when Ismael laughed and shook his head, she smiled. 

Things were going to be okay.

**

So she stayed with Ismael and she tried to pretend like she didn’t see the dozens of pleading and even angry text messages that he left her.

_ Please don’t contact me anymore.  _

_ I love you.  _

_ No, you don’t.  _

_ I can’t live without you.  _

_ I’m sorry to hear that. But I would encourage you to try.  _

And so the texts would become angry, almost desperate. She didn’t know why she didn’t just block him. He would probably get over her quicker that way. Ismae; suggested it but he ultimately left the choice to her. 

She put it off for a while. Ismael told her about an opening at the media firm where he worked and she applied never expecting to get the job, but she did. So it was when she was leaning against the cool glass of the passenger side window of Ismael’s car as they drove home together that she finally took the plunge. She blocked him, deleted his number, and she felt glad. 

The line of a Beatles song that she sang in elementary school in music class, floated through her mind. 

_ O-bla di, O-bla-da, life goes on.  _

So she went to work, she did what she had to do and she tried to make a life for herself again. It was a painful process, it was a cathartic process; trying to supplement the parts of herself that she had lost being with Christopher. But she owed it to herself to try. 

So she went to the gym, she went to workshops, she went to the store and she tried to act like she didn’t feel that watchful gaze on her again.

_ O-bla di, O-bla-da, life goes on. La-la how the life goes on. _

She tried to remember that when she was in the grocery store parking lot, one evening, loading her milk and eggs and a sack was put over her head, her vision going black. She was hoisted over a strong shoulder as she fruitlessly struggled, the cologne of her captor all too familiar.

She was going to make pancakes for dinner. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.   
One more chapter to go! I do hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think. :)  
The new year is busier than anticipated so I'll finish this up hopefully by tomorrow and then I don't know! I don't want to say bye so I'll probably keep doing fluffy one-shots for Danger Coming Over but uploads of those will be sporadic at best.   
Okay byyyee


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks!  
Trigger Warning: Blood(?)

The sack was wrenched off her head and she exhaled roughly in panic as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room.

Looking around frantically, she saw that she was in the living room of their old apartment. His old apartment. The empty space and bare walls seeming like a bad video game render in the low streetlight streaming through the windows.

She turned to her left and she caught eyes with Agent Turner, his own eyes heavy-lidded, his face and body covered in bruises and blood. His clothes were dishevelled like he'd just been in a fight. Next to him, was Beth, her eyes wide and red-rimmed as she sobbed. Her cries were muffled behind a strip of duct tape but she was unharmed, arms tied behind her back.

They were all sat on the floor, while Christopher sat on an old rickety chair above them, leaning forward with his forearms braced on his thighs, and his head hanging desolately. She could just barely see the glint of his golden pistol grasped loosely in his right hand.

Her gaze lingered on his hands. She had spent many heady days admiring his hands. They were one of her favourite things about him. Large, calloused, and veined but almost graceful in their masculinity. Strong hands. Capable hands. His hands. 

She was sure that she was going to die by those very same hands.

“Why did you make me do this?” he said sadly. He said it so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him. 

“I didn’t make you do anything,” she responded shakily. 

“No, no, you made me do this,” he said shaking his head slowly. “If you would just… if you would just do what I fuckin’ tell you, we wouldn’t all be here.”

“And if you,” Christopher continued, pointing at Turner with his gun. “Would just get off my back then I wouldn’t have to kill you.”

“You, I just don’t like,” he finished, gesturing at Beth who had stopped crying but was breathing heavily.

“Why did you fuck her then?” she asked bitterly.

He looked at her then and she saw his eyes glinting with something that she couldn’t name, something like fire, something like madness. He moved to squat on the balls of his feet in front of her and tilted her face up to his with his gun. 

“You know,” he started conversationally. “I watched you for a long time.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach and it started to burn a hole into her soul. 

“I saw you in that supermarket and I,” he said tenderly as he stroked her face with his other hand. “I just had to have you. I followed you and it’s like you knew I was close. I knew we were connected.”

He said it with a kind of reverence that told her that he truly believed what he was saying and her heart skipped a beat. She had spent months with this man. She loved him even. A part of her still did, in all honesty. 

He huffed almost in disbelief. “I love you so much it, it makes me kinda crazy. Beth was a mistake,” he said rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm.

“You hit me,” she said shakily. “You don’t hit the people you love.”

“Come on,” he crooned. “You know I’m a little rough around the edges. Got a bit of a temper. I can work on it though, baby.”

“You kidnapped me,” she breathed, fear almost choking her. She had to get him to see sense.

“Because you wouldn’t talk to me!” he snarled, his voice rising towards the end.

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“That’s enough talking for now. We’re gonna finish up here and then we’re leaving. You and me, and we’re gonna start that family,” he said nodding once and standing up. 

“Christopher,” she said, her voice small. “Baby, just let them go. I’ll stay with you and we can start our family but only if you let them go.”

He looked down at the floor for a moment before looking at her, face blank. “Really?”

“Yes, yes,” she said earnestly, trying to ignore Beth’s muffled protests. “Can’t you imagine it? Two little boys. Half you and half me. But you gotta let these people go.”

He paused for a while before he heaved a breath and smiled slightly and nodded to himself. He stepped over to Beth and untied her and both she and Beth exhaled shakily. Beth slowly extracted her hands from behind her and eyed Christopher warily. 

He stepped back slightly. “I’m not gonna kill her,” he said looking back at her. “You are.”

“What?”

He moved to help her stand up and she stood on legs that felt like jelly, her heart thundering and seeming to shake her entire frame. 

“She tried to take me from you,” he said, holding her shoulder and slipping the gun into her hand before he walked over to Beth and stood at her side, staring her down in disgust. 

“She threw herself at me like some kinda slut,” he sneered. “Not mention when she tried to send me to prison.”

“Please don’t do this,” Beth sobbed.

“Shut up!” Christopher snarled.

Beth was shaking and crying, her hands clenching and unclenching and she could tell Beth wanted to run but she could also see that Beth knew that Christopher would catch her and kill her with his bare hands. 

Those goddamn hands. 

“Do it,” he intoned gravely, turning to look at her, one of his eyebrows raised the way it always was when he was annoyed. “Just like I taught you.”

She remembered when he taught her to shoot. She’d been wary, he’d been insistent. The usual. He took her outside the city to a forest clearing and she could feel the ghost of Christoper’s form moulded to hers as he corrected her stance and the very real weight of the gun familiar. 

She hated how the gun felt in her hand and she had told him so that day too. It felt like holding a rabid animal by the throat, the lethality of it practicality palpable. It was too much and even though she was a good shot, she told him teasingly that he would just have to protect her. His eyes had darkened and he took her on the hood of his car, promising to keep and protect her always. 

“Do it!” he snapped, taking her out of her thoughts. “She ignored you for months. She tried to steal me from you. She ain’t your friend, baby girl. She doesn’t give a  _ damn _ about you.”

“That’s not true,” Beth sobbed. 

“I said shut up!” he shouted and Beth whimpered. 

She raised the gun and she found her hands were remarkably steady and she shifted slightly on her feet before aiming at Beth. She took a deep breath. 

“You can do this,” Christopher breathed. “All you need to do is-”

“Pul the trigger,” she finished

And at the last minute, she shifted on her feet to face Christopher and she pulled the trigger ever so slightly. 

Out in the forest, the bang of the gun didn’t seem so loud, the sound bouncing off of hundreds of trees and echoing dramatically. In the enclosed space of the apartment they once shared, it was like she fired the gun in her own mind, the sound bouncing around in her skull so hard she could scream. Then it was quiet. The only sound a punched out groan from Christopher who was clutching his thigh, blood trickling out of the wound like an open faucet. 

He looked down at the wound and looked up at her in shock before his expression morphed into anger and he made to step towards her but he fell to one knee, almost slipping in a puddle of his own blood. 

She quickly ran over to Agent Turner and untied him before helping him to stand. She led the disoriented and injured man to Beth who put an arm around his waist and his arm over her shoulder. 

“Take him to a hospital,” she said firmly, barely hearing the words over the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears. 

“But what about-”

“Just do it, Beth!” she yelled and Beth hurried away awkwardly, supporting Turner’s weight as best as she could. 

She turned back towards Christopher who had his eyes fixed on her from where he lay on the floor. He had a few minutes till he bled out if she was right about where she had shot him. 

She crouched beside him and dug his phone out of his pocket, swiping across the screen to make an emergency call. 

“I can’t leave knowing I let you bleed out and die,” she started and his eyes widened. “But only because I’m not a monster. I need you to leave me alone. You can’t follow me, you can’t hurt my friends, and you can’t keep texting me.”

“I can’t do that,” he said through gritted teeth. “I won’t.”

“Would you rather die?” she asked tiredly. “You won’t ever see me again if you do that.”

“Gimme a chance,” he pled, his face pinched. “Just a chance to be better. For you.”

She regarded him for a few moments before she saw the colour draining from his face and she dialled 911. 

“911, what’s your emergency,” a calm male voice answered. 

“I have a gunshot victim that needs urgent care,” she said prattling off the address. “He got shot in the thigh.”

“Alright, ma’am. I’m sending first responders to your location. In the meantime, can you put pressure on the wound?” the operator asked but she didn’t answer. Instead, she hung up.

“If you survive,” she said to Christopher, wiping the gun of her prints and putting it back in his pocket. “I don’t wanna see you again.”

A few minutes later out on the street, she saw flashing blue and red lights close-by but she didn’t stay to greet them. She started walking and she didn’t look back.

She somehow managed to get back to the grocery store parking lot, the walk a haze of adrenaline and flashing lights. She shouldn’t have been driving but she just needed to get home. 

Her eggs and milk were still in the car. 

When she got back home, finally coming down from the adrenaline, and fear, and blood, she collapsed against Ismael’s chest and she cried. She cried until she was sure that she would cry blood. 

She felt sadness, she felt fear but she also felt relief. 

Yes. She was relieved. 

**

_ O-bla di, O-bla-da, life goes on. La-la how the life goes on.  _

The aftermath was almost disappointing in how anticlimactic it was. 

She told Ismael what happened and she almost laughed at the disappointed look on his face when she told him that she had called 911 after she shot Christopher.

Almost. 

Beth thought that Christopher was dead and she didn’t bother to correct her. Beth didn’t ask her how she was. She was instead met with a business pitch from Beth to continue where Christopher left off. Fill the void in the power structure. She had already been experimenting at home on making fake cash like it was Breaking Bad.

She told Beth not to contact her again.

She made new friends, normal friends. She got her own apartment but she kept working with Ismael. Life went on. She learnt how to be a person again. 

Months went on with no incident and she tried not to be disappointed. 

When she eventually felt that watchful gaze on her again she wasn’t afraid but she still kept the pink-handled switchblade on her at all times. 

More months went on and the gaze lingered but never grew closer and it didn’t grow farther either. It was just there. Passive. Almost comforting in a way. But nonetheless, distant.

She hoped that would be enough for him. 

She hoped it would be enough for her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed that! It's kind of an open ending so I'm sorry for that but this seemed to me like a good way for the story to end. There won't be a part 2 but I will be returning to the Danger Coming Over stories.   
Thank you all for reading! It's been a blast! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! If that left you with a sense of foreboding then my job here is done! I hope you enjoyed that. Updates will, of course, be sporadic.


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